Lines of Life
by Relena Mishima
Summary: In the trio's fifth year nothing seems the same. There's more work, a new High Inquisitor and new relationships beginning. If only the world wasn't sick and actually lived up to people's expectations.
1. When Did Life Get So Hard?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter and am making no money from this.

**Hermione**

When I first came to the magical world it was one of the best moments of my life. I've always loved learning, and here was a whole new reality beyond anything I'd ever dreamed of. It's a strange world with odd rules that sometimes seem almost random (29 Knuts to the Sickle and 17 Sickles to the Galleon? Who thought that made sense?), but it's one I loved for years.

But this summer, in between my fourth and fifth years at Hogwarts I've started to see another side of the wizarding world; it's a close minded bigoted hateful place. I learned quickly enough that things like that existed in this world (it didn't take me long to first be called a Mudblood after all), but it didn't really bother me at first. After all, every place has some of that somewhere or other, doesn't it?

I see now that it isn't just in the fringe though; it isn't just a few insults thrown around by people like Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. It's mainstream; it's institutionalized; it's being woven into the very fabric of wizarding society.

I know Harry and Ron didn't much care for my whole house elf liberation thing, and didn't even humor me very far in it, but I just couldn't believe that a society could have an entire slave race and see no problem at all. Those two kept saying it wasn't so bad, the elves enjoyed it (and odd as it sounds I'll admit some seem to, though I'd never say that out loud) but it isn't just house elves. Veela, centaurs, giants, werewolves, vampires, the list just seems endless. One race after another, whole races that are marginalized, enslaved or outright exterminated when found.

Maybe it's because I'm Muggle born, maybe it's because I grew up in a different world, but I just can't get past this. Maybe it's just me, but it seems like everywhere I look now I just see more and more wrong.

When Harry told us that Voldermort was back I thought it was good news in an odd sort of way. Oh, he's terrible of course, a murderous inhuman monster, but this time he was at a disadvantage; we knew he was back, he had few followers, and no matter how powerful he might be, he's just one man, so we could stop him before he became a threat to everyone. What an idiot I was.

Fudge, the moron Minster of Magic refused to believe it. Instead he's indulging in a concerted effort to discredit Harry and Dumbledore, running a campaign in the paper against them. It's exactly what Voldermort needs. With constant denials of his return it's got to be easy for him to infiltrate everywhere, put his people in the right positions, blackmail and control others, building the exact sort of network I hoped we could prevent.

The effort against Voldermort isn't something that's impressed me either, frankly. Dumbledore has his Order of the Phoenix, but, well… It's more like a club of wizards left over from the last war meeting in a truly dreadful old house than a serious fighting force. Certainly people come and go enough, at all hours, and they have plenty of secret meetings (though with so little happening I can't imagine what there is to meet about so much) but I see very little progress to speak of.

What's more, they refuse to let Harry, Ron or I in on anything. I understand we're children, but we've gone against Voldermort more than anyone. No one in the Order besides Dumbledore is anyone Voldermort might fear, so why are they allowed in but we're locked out of everything?

They weren't there to stop Voldermort from taking the Sorcerer's Stone and becoming immortal, they didn't solve the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets, they didn't save Sirius Black, and they didn't confront Voldermort in that graveyard. We did. Granted, Harry more than Ron or I, but still. It's simply insulting.

Now I know Dumbledore is a wise and brilliant man, I know Voldermort feared him, even at the height of his power and Dumbledore was there for the previous Dark Lord as well, but I'm damned frustrated with that man right now. Why is he shutting us out when it seems like we're the only ones getting things done? Why is everyone else so entitled to know everything but we're at the kids' table. How are we supposed to keep trusting him if all we get is the silent treatment?

The worst part is I can't say any of this to anyone. Harry and Ron are, well, they're reckless. If I wasn't the voice of reason they'd run off trying to get themselves killed twice daily. So I have to the be the responsible one, the know-it-all, the annoying bossy one; anything but the one who feels unappreciated and marginalized.

The only other real friend I have (and the only female friend) is Ginny, Ron's little sister. I think I'd go insane if I didn't have her. I love Ron and Harry, I really do. They're family, they're my brothers basically, but if I don't get away from them sometimes I want to just scream. A girl can only stand being around guys for so long,especially when they start going on about Quidditch. I'll never understand the fascination with that sport.

Molly Weasley, Ron's mother is another sore point for me. I know she means well, and she really is a nice woman, but it seems like this summer in the Order's headquarters everything she says and does just gets on my nerves. She just can't seem to get it through her heads that we're not children. All right, we are young, fifteen, but that doesn't mean she has to infantilize us! I think she feels like if she keeps us kids then trouble won't find us. Seems rather naive to me; trouble found us in first year when we were all only eleven years old.

She also has the same sort of prejudices that it seems like every pure blood family has. Oh, it's nicer and cuddlier in her, she's no Malfoy, but it's still there. I suppose I can't blame her for it, she grew up with it and that's just how wizards are, but in a summer where it feels like every little thing grates, I notice.

The start of school can't come fast enough; it feels like it's taking more and more effort to not snap at everyone I talk to. I need classes, homework and research to take my mind off things. I know those things, they're familiar, I can do them and feel like I don't have to worry about the rest. Ron and Harry make fun of me for going to the library so much, but I really do feel better when I can lose myself there.

Sadly, school wasn't getting off to a good start. In fact right from the train ride things didn't go how I would have liked. Ron and I had to ride up front in the Prefect car (I still have no idea how he could be a Prefect). Of course Malfoy and that cow Parkinson were the Slytherin prefects; two of my least favorite people in the world. To be fair Harry is Malfoy's main target, I'm just collateral damage. Pansy Parkinson though? We hate each other just fine without needing anyone else around.

The witch is dressed in this tight little skirt, a silk blouse and heels. Of course her makeup is perfect and not a hair out of place. Seriously, what does she think this is, some office party? As soon as she sees me she gives me that damned smirk of hers and I can't wait to be anywhere else but here.

The Sorting isn't any better. The Sorting Hat's song is a warning (never a good thing when a piece of outer wear has to caution you.) And then there is the speech from that Umbridge woman. It might have sailed right over Ron's head (perhaps because he was too busy stuffing his face with food?) but I heard her loud and clear. She's here on behalf of the Ministry to interfere.

When Harry's trial ended in an acquittal everyone sighed in relief and just moved on, but of course, I couldn't. They just saw an oddly large affair that had ended and that's it. It wasn't just an aberration though. They had Harry on trial in front of the entire Wizengamot because they wanted to be rid of him; Fudge meant to send him to Azkaban.

The whole thing was set up as a show trial. Harry and Ron might not have seen them in the wizarding world, but I knew what they were from the Muggle one. It was the whole big assembly, with Fudge and his pet toad Umbridge to see one of Fudge's biggest enemies destroyed. Dumbledore stopped them there, but the toad's here now and I've got a bad feeling about how much she plans to do.

The disgusting woman demanded that we respond to her like a bunch of kindergarten kids. Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge. Yes, Processor Umbridge. No Professor Umbridge. All together like a bunch of blood five year olds.

And then there was her wonderful pronouncement that her class would be theory only; she expects us to just read and regurgitate the stupid textbook. I can do that at home! I come to Hogwarts to learn, for actual instruction.

It's the first time I can ever remember not wanting to read. Ever since I was a little girl I loved reading, but now it just feels like an insult. This class is useless for anything but Ministry indoctrination.

As upset as I am, Harry's worse: he winds up in a shouting match with the toad. All his talk about Voldermort and how Cedric Diggory died was just dismissed as lies and met with detention. At first I thought he was going to attack her. I tried holding Harry back, but it didn't come to a fight, which is good because I'm not sure how hard I would have really tried to stop him if it came to that. Instead Harry was just sent to Professor McGonagall's office.

So yeah, miserable summer, miserable start to the year.

**Ron**

This is the hardest bloody year of my life. I'm a Prefect now (though I still think someone spelled Harry's name wrong when they gave out Prefect badges), and I even got a new broom because of that. Mum was so proud; I can't remember seeing her look like that because of me. It's always been someone else that got those looks, but for once it was me. Fred and George really made fun of me for the badge, but even they couldn't ruin this.

Seamus sure took a shot at ruining my year though, what with all his crap about not believing Dumbledore and Harry; he as good as called them liars right to Harry's face. I thought he was our friend too.

It turned out it wasn't just him either; it seems like half the school is buying into that crap from the _Daily Prophet_. Everywhere we go with Harry, crowds of people walk the other way when they stop us, conversations stop and suspicious glances follow us all over the place.

And then there's the bloody homework. Merlin is there ever homework. I know there's these big important OWL tests at the end of the year, but what's the point of preparing us for them if they kill us first? Hours of homework per night per class. Just how are we supposed to keep up? Think about our future they say. All I want in my future is a break! I want a few days with no potions, no transfiguration, no charms and for Merlin's sake no divination.

I don't need to use my inner eye to know that won't happen though. Hmm, maybe I can write that down in that stupid dream journal though… Yeah, I dreamed of getting a good night's sleep and having no homework. That's good; I've got to use that one.

I guess homework would be easier if Hermione was helping us, but that doesn't happen too much lately. It seems like all three of us are in a bad mood this year. I'm buried in homework, Harry's, well… he has Harry's life and Hermione is, well, I don't know. Upset about her stupid house elves still or something, I don't know. That girl makes no sense sometimes.

Whatever's wrong with her she's been like that ever since we all met up over the summer. All moody and stuff, upset over her stupid elves. And then to make it worse she'd read books about things like Veela and werewolves and vampires and stuff and it'd all just make her even grumpier. Seriously, if books make you that upset to read, you stop reading them. It's simple, right?

Apparently not for Hermione. She'd just keep reading and now and then mutter about injustice or something like that when she thought no one was around. I swear she even gave my mum some dirty looks. The woman's practically a saint; she put up with Fred and George for years. I just don't see how anyone can think bad of her. At least she got a bit better when we got to school and she had homework and could go live in the library and stuff.

I tried out for the House Quidditch Team (which also ticked off Hermione, since it takes time away from homework.) I was going for keeper, and I played ok too. I don't think I was the best to be honest, even with my new broom, but I made the team anyway.

Harry started helping me practice (Yes, Hermione was annoyed by this even more) and I did pretty good. I actually started to think I could pull it off. And then our first full team practice happened. It was the absolute worst day I've ever had on a broom. I was everywhere except where I needed to be, everything got past me and the entire time those stupid Slytherins in the stands laughing at me. If I wasn't so depressed about being such a failure I'd want to beat the crap out of Malfoy.

Of course, since life can't resist kicking a Weasley when he's down, there was more bad news. This time my absolute ass of a brother, Percy was the one to pile on. He sent this long, crap letter all about how great the Ministry is, how great Umbridge is and how terrible Harry is, how dangerous he is and how I need to disassociate myself from him. Oh, and how deluded my Mum and Dad are and how they owe him an apology. A load of crap, all of it. All it did is make my bad mood even worse.

Maybe things will turn around though. Sirius contacted us through the fire that same night (I've got to learn that spell!) and even though he didn't know much about Hagrid, he did tell us what the Ministry's thinking. They're worried about us forming some army here. What rubbish! An army? At Hogwarts? Of what, us kids? Seriously, this is why Umbridge is here? If this is what they're scared of it should take her about a week to figure out there's nothing to worry about here.

The next day there's this big thing in the _Prophet_ about how Umbridge is some High Inquisitor now, which best as I can figure means she'll get to poke around other teachers' classes. Yeah, if she wants to pester McGonagall good luck to her. We'll be rid of her in a day.

**Hermione**

I have decidedly mixed feelings about nightly patrols. They're part of our Prefect duties, and I do enjoy walking around the castle at night, it's pleasant in its solitude, but the patrols take several hours a night, which I feel could be spent more productively on other matters.

Still, being a Prefect is a privilege and privilege comes with responsibilities, so I dutifully do my patrols every night. We all have areas to cover, but they're very general and we're encouraged to go outside our areas and change up our routes so there won't be set patterns for anyone to take advantage of.

I'm wandering down a hallway (honestly I'm not sure which. I rather let my mind wander and lost track of where I am a little bit.) when I come across a student sitting on a bench reading a book. I can respect the urge, but not out of bounds after hours.

"You can't be here at this time." I announce.

The student looks up and I see it's a girl, a Slytherin in my year. I think she's one of the twits that follow Parkinson around, Tracey um… Sheffield I think. Something like that. To be honest I never bothered to learn all of their names; one of Parkinson's followers is as good as the next as far as I'm concerned.

"Oh, I'm sorry, is it after hours? I must have lost all track of time." When will Slytherins learn that the innocent act is a loser for them?

"Of course you did. But that'll be five points from Slytherin just the same. Now get back to your dormitory, please."

The girl gets up without protest. Good, I hate it when they argue. I turn to go back to my patrol when I hear it behind me. "_Imperio_" and then everything goes fuzzy.

Hmm, I must have spaced out there. Odd. I tend to let my mind wander when I'm out on patrol, but never that bad. It's a good thing no was here to see it.

Well, back to normal patrolling for me, and just in time to hear someone walking just ahead. I round a corner and see who it is. Wonderful, just who I didn't want it to be: Pansy Parkinson. I turn around and go back the way I came, ducking into the first classroom I can. If I'm lucky she'll walk right past and I can be spared a confrontation. Maybe it's childish to run, but I just don't have the patience for her tonight.

But of course I won't be getting lucky tonight. Parkinson walks into my classroom hiding place, closing and locking the door behind her.

"Awe, is know-it-all Granger scared of little ol' me?" she smiles sweetly.

"You know that won't stop me." I gesture to the lock.

"No, but it'll slow you down, and it'll keep anyone else from coming in."

"All this just to annoy me?"

"Five points for Gryffindor." she smirks at me.

Hiding was a mistake, one I'll correct right now. I walk to the door, taking out my wand. One simple spell and I'll be gone.

"Hmpf, I knew it; you are scared of me."

I turn around, glaring at her. "I'm not scared of you, Parkinson."

"Oh, the Mudblood has guts, does she?"

"You do know that word doesn't mean a thing to me, don't you? The first time Malfoy called me that I had to ask Ron what it was."

"It means I'm better than you. I was since the day I was born and I will be until the day I die. My family can trace the pure magic in our blood back for centuries, where as you're just a freak; an accident; a random mistake of nature." God I hate the arrogance in those cold, pale blue eyes.

"If you're so much better than me then why do I get better grades than you?"

She laughs at me. The stuck up girl is actually laughing at me! "You think I give a damn about school? What, I need good grades or I'll have a bad future? Come on, Granger, how stupid are you?"

Stupid? How dare she? I'm way smarter than this piece of wannabe Malfoy arm candy.

"You see, that's just another difference between us. You have to work and study and stress and struggle all just to try and get good grades so you can scrape out some sort of a future. But me? Not even close. The Parkinson name opens doors all across the country. All you'll earn in your life is just a drop in the bucket compared to the Parkinson family fortune. So you see, I could fail every single class in the school and my future is still just , not just fine; better than yours."

God! If anyone ever needed proof the wizarding world is messed up, here it is: Pansy Parkinson. Stuck up bitch, lazy, mean and guaranteed a perfect little life. "You know what, Parkinson? You're everything that's wrong with this world. You may have all your money and all that, but it just proves how miserable wizarding society is. You just have everything handed to you for free, you don't have to work for anything, you just live off of what others have done; like a parasite. You get to sit there and be a bitch and nothing bad happens. No wonder Voldermort has so many pure blood supporters. You people are disgusting."

"Oh, disgusting are we? I think I look quite a bit better than disgusting, thank you very much. But let's look at the other side, shall we? You say pure bloods are terrible people and lump us in with the Dark Lord? What about your side then? Oh so brave and virtuous and just, struggling valiantly against him. The legendary armies of light. Oh wait, no, I haven't seen an army. I haven't even seen a soldier."

Parkinson leans in close. She's a few inches taller than me, and no matter how much I don't want it to, it's still affect me being so close to her. "Your great forces of light consist of a fifteen year old boy. That's all you've had to put up against the Dark Lord. You look down on us, all high and mighty, but take a look in the mirror, Granger. I don't see a lot of pure blood adults sending a child off to do their work for them. Why don't you think about that and then tell me who's the moral one here."

Now she's questioning Dumbledore and how he's fighting Voldermort. And the worst part is, the damned bitch has a point too. I liked it better when I could just writer her off as some stupid bimbo. "I'd rather be on the side that depends on kids to do their work than be with a miserable hate filled Death Eater like you!" God that sounded lame.

Parkinson rolls up her sleeves, showing me both her forearms. Of course they're pale and perfect, just like the rest of her skin. You'd think for someone so ugly on the inside there could be a blemish somewhere on her.

"You see a Dark Mark, Granger? I know it's easy to assume every Slytherin is a Death Eater wannabe, but I thought you might put in at least a little effort to make sure before you go tossing around accusations, all lumping people in together just because it's easier. But I guess you're just one of those sorts that looks at a girl's blood and thinks you know everything about her."

I want to hit her; I want to hit her so bad. She's just grinning at me (she has perfect teeth, of course.) and this smug grin. She thinks she outsmarted me? We'll see who gets one over on whom.

I give up on self control and reach out, grabbing her robes right below her collar and pull her close, close enough to smell her perfume. Her eyes widen in surprise. It's just a little bit before she gets control again, but I saw it. I've finally got the advantage. Now she'll see what this Mudblood can do when she's pushed too far.

This is the time to hit her, ram my fist right into those luscious red lips of hers. But I won't. I'm a Prefect, I won't throw that away for one punch, no matter how satisfying. (Yes, I know I hit Malfoy once, but he wouldn't tell on me, he'd have to admit he was beat up by a girl. I have no idea what Parkinson would do.) No, I scared her, I got one over on her, that's good enough. It's time to walk away.

I mean to let go, but my body refuses to listen to me. "_The next time you see Pansy Parkinson and argue with her instead of walking away at the end you will make out with her and try seducing her on the spot._" a voice inside my head orders as everything gets all fuzzy and sort of floaty. I know I should be concerned, but it actually feels kind of good.

I pull her in close and kiss her. Parkinson's shocked, but after a moment starts returning the kiss. Good, that'll make it easier to seduce her.

Wait, something about that sounds wrong. Seduce Pansy Parkinson? Why would I want to do that? I don't even like her. "_Now seduce her._" that same voice orders again. It's really insistent, too. Kissing Pansy Parkinson might feel good, but something about this is wrong; very wrong.

With a mighty effort I force the haze from my mind and push away from Parkinson. She looks at me with her trademark smirk. Oh my god, did I really just do what I think I did? I don't wait for whatever comment Parkinson's about to make; I let go of her and run for my life.

**Author's Notes:**

So here it is, a fun little side project that I came up with after reading a few other fanfics. I hope everyone enjoys it and likes where it's going to go. thanks to that-fan for his help in editing and development (and especially for helping me through the discarded drafts and ending concepts that led up to this one.) I'd love to hear from readers, whether you like it, don't like it or just have some comments to make. Thanks.


	2. Girl Plots

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter and am making no money from this.

**Pansy**

Well, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that karma is bullshit now; there's just no way I've ever done something good enough to deserve this. Hermione Granger, famous Mudblood know-it-all of Gryffindor screwed up; she screwed up bad. The stupid girl kissed me. She kissed me and now I own her ass.

I see her sitting at the Gryffindor table at breakfast, giving me these nervous little glances now and then. She's trying not to get noticed, but of course I saw her; I'm staring at her, after all. I can see it from here, the thoughts running through her head:why hasn't Parkinson said anything yet? Why isn't there already talk about the Mudblood rug muncher? What's she waiting for?

Oh, I thought about spreading it all around the school, sure. No doubt it'd have been fun, but this is so much better. If I'd already talked she'd be embarrassed, mortified, devastated even, but it'd pass. I'd get to gloat for a few days, maybe even a week, but then everyone would move on. But this way I can enjoy this for as long as I want. The terror of the unknown, the anticipation in her eyes of when I'll crush her, it's great. I have power over her, and don't let anyone lie to you. Power is one hell of a turn on.

"Why are you staring at the Mudblood so much?" Draco asks from next to me.

"Oh, just a little scheme I'm working on."

"Care to share?"

"No." Draco would just open his big mouth and ruin my fun if I told him. The boy just has no self control, and no appreciation of subtlety.

"You're no fun, Pansy. Come on, spill already."

"I said no."

"Hmpf, I bet you don't have anything in the first place." Draco mutters, turning away.

Wow, really? This is his big effort to get it out of me? He acts like I have nothing and my pride will make me tell him? Pathetic. I almost can't believe Draco's the unofficial head of Slytherin house. The reasons are simple of course. He's a male, and he's a Malfoy.

The Malfoy family is one of the richest and most powerful of the so called Sacred Twenty Eight, the group of really true pure blood wizarding families in this country. Of course the Parkinson family is one of them as well, and even if we aren't quite as powerful as the Malfoys, I might be in the running to run Slytherin house if not for one other fact: I'm a girl.

Power in pure blood families runs through the males. Looking at Draco and his fawning goons Crabbe and Goyle I'm comfortable saying girls are smarter than boys, but sadly we aren't more powerful; not in pure blood families at least. Just like kings of old, power is all in the hands of boys. So it doesn't matter if I'm smarter, Draco's a boy, I'm a girl, so he's eligible to be in charge and I'm not.

Not that it's hard to get what I want. A bit of fawning all over him and he'll give me anything I ask for. It's not really the same as having power myself, but playing the idiot bimbo isn't terrible usually.

That's why I love this so much now. Dear sweet moronic Draco hates Granger almost as much as he does Potter, but for all his taunting and schemes he's never gotten anywhere against either one, but I have.

It wasn't my original plan, really. When I first saw Granger I just thought I'd share a few choice words with her. She's usually a fun target because she fights back. It's just not as much fun if you bully some weakling who just takes it. Someone who really puts up a fight though? Those are the wins that really feel good, the victories a girl can take real satisfaction in; the only fights that are really worth fighting. So I planned to trade a few insults and have some fun with Granger, but it escalated more than I expected. That's when I came up with my plan.

I went out of my way to try and piss Granger off. She looked like she wanted to take a swing at me, so I was going to make sure she did. If I hit her first she'd run to a teacher and I'd get in trouble. If she were to hit me first though, well that's a whole other story.

I don't know what Gryffindor's like, but it seems a lot nicer than Slytherin. Granger probably got to be their perfect know-it-all just by being smart.I didn't get to be the princess in Slytherin house by being the prettiest or smartest or anything like that though. I am the prettiest and smart, sure, but it takes more than that. I had to blackmail and bully my way there, I had to intimidate, and more than one time I had to do more than just that. I've had my share of catfights with other girls in Slytherin. I won them all too. I'm good at them; I like hitting people. Just overpowering them, it's great.

So I figure Granger's never been in a fight, but if I piss her off enough to swing first, well then it's on. Yeah, I'd get hit in the face, and it'd hurt, but once it happened I'd get to kick the shit out of her. And once I did there wouldn't be a thing Granger could do about it, because she'd have been the one to start it. I was just defending myself. Honest!

Malfoy never had the balls to try a thing like that with Potter. Oh, sure, he's almost gotten in fights with him, but the pussy is afraid to take a punch or eat a spell so he can claim self defense. Well, that and I think if he took one in the face he'd be down for the count…

I wasn't afraid to take a hit though. Didn't see what Granger hit me with coming though; I've got no idea how it happened. And you know what? I've got to give credit where credit is due; the girl can kiss. Given how she ran out right afterwards I think she was just as surprised by the kiss as I was. Shame too; from where I was standing things were just getting good.

I'm not usually one for having fun with girls (you try having Millicent Bulstrode as a roommate and see if you look at girls the same way again),but I'm no fool; I won't turn down pleasure where I find it. Pity I didn't get to see Granger's follow up. Oh well, like I said, I own her now. I can get some Mudblood lovin' any time I want now.

But just ordering her around is no fun. The whole reason Granger's such a fun opponent is because she's smart, and she fights back. So I think I'm going to let her make the next move, and after something like she pulled I know it's only a matter of time until she does. I know a good plan sometimes requires patience, and the way she keeps sneaking looks at me I know I've got a lot more than she does right now.

But just because I'm letting her make the next move doesn't mean I can't fuck with her head. Fucking with people's heads is one of my favorite ways to pass time, after all. After lunch is double potions with the Gryffindors, and that's the perfect setting. Normally the Gryffindors all sit together, and the Slytherins sit somewhere else in the room, but that's no fun; that's not going to mess with the Mudblood's head.

Granger plans to sit in between Weasley and Potter, but before that can happen I drop my bag next to her. Potter and Weasley give me dirty looks, but I just give them my best sweet smile. Sometimes giving someone a friendly look can piss them off a whole lot more than a dirty look can.

"What are you doing here, Parkinson?" Weasley demands.

"What, you think your name's on this seat or something? I can sit wherever I want."

If Potter and Weasley obsess about Malfoy as much as he does about them, then I'm sure they think this is part of some scheme of his. If only they knew. But they can't say or do a thing about it, not now at least.

Professor Snape comes in, slamming the door behind him. The man always has a sneer for Gryffindors, but I think he quite a good head of a house. He doesn't baby us, he doesn't invade our privacy, he doesn't even care what rules we break. If we get caught breaking one you can tell he's a bit upset, but I think it's more that he's disappointed we got caught. But even if we get caught doing something, we always get a chance to get out of it. Tell the right lie and you're home free. It's all about the quality of the lie with him, see.

Professor Snape knows only an idiot follows all the rules, does what they're told all the time, eats their vegetables and goes to bed on time. In life it's not about what you're supposed to do, it's about what you actually can do. Rules are there to keep things going for the normal people, not the ones who really run things. That's what Slytherins are here for: to run things. And if that means going outside the rules, then no big deal. And if we get caught, we don't say we're sorry and ask for forgiveness like some Gryffindor, we find a way to talk our way out of it. It's wonderful training for life.

Professor Snape looks over the class, his gaze pausing for just a moment when he sees me with Granger. There are plenty of free seats, so he must know I'm here by choice. He doesn't know what game I'm playing, but he's perfectly willing to let me play it; today's lesson is a potion that we're making with a partner.

"What's your game, Parkinson?" Granger asks once we're paired off and starting our work.

"Game? I'm just trying to do well. Isn't it natural to want to team up with someone who gets good grades? I'd think it would help my own marks."

"Don't give me that. This wasn't even the potion we were supposed to work on today. Professor Snape only assigned it after he saw you sitting where Ron usually does."

"Oh, well I'm sure I wouldn't know anything about that." I break out my sweet smile again. "As for your friend Ron, I do hope he isn't put out. I'd never dream of taking his seat, after all." Yeah, more like Weasley needs to sit here to cheat off of Granger.

Hermione keeps giving me dirty, suspicious looks, but I play the perfect girl. Yes, I know how. I grew up in a proper, noble family, I know my manners; I just don't bother with them usually. But for this, I'm a proper, polite lady.

The sweet, innocent act isn't fooling Granger, but it isn't supposed to; it's meant to be wrong and out of character. Granger knows what to expect out of me, or at least she thinks she does, and the fact I'm not playing my part is driving her nuts. It's great.

I even pull my own weight on the potion we're working on so Granger isn't doing all the work, which is good, because she's focusing on me so much the potion we're making is an afterthought for her. Who knew Hermione Granger would need help from me for her schoolwork.

**Ginny**

I'm sitting in the common room at the end of the day when Harry, Ron and Hermione come in

"What do you mean you don't know what she's up to?" Ron demands.

"I mean I don't know, Ronald." Hermione answers. That tone of voice and using his entire given name means she's had to answer that question a lot of times already.

"Who's up to what now?" I ask.

"Pansy Parkinson." Ron answers. "She's messing with Hermione somehow."

"What'd she do?"

"Well she was staring at Hermione all during breakfast. And then in potions she took my usual seat so she could be partnered up with Hermione!"

"So she looked at Hermione and then sat near her?" I know Pansy Parkinson's about the meanest girl in school, but come on.

"Well, yeah." my brother answers, starting to clue in how lame he sounds. "But I'm telling you, Gin, she's up to something! She's acting weird."

"You always think everyone is up to something, Ron. All you do is either complain about homework or complain about how either Malfoy or Snape is out to get you and Harry."

"Because they are!" I shake my head and groan. No wonder Hermione was losing her patience with him. "Maybe they know we're always watching them so they got Parkinson to do something. And they're going after Hermione this time because going after Harry is too obvious."

When I think about my brother wanting to be an Auror I weep for the future. He sees more conspiracies than Mad Eye Moody did, and if he actually gets the authority to follow up on them…

I look to Hermione for backup; I'm about at the point where I could use the help with Ron. Usually she'd be ready to jump right in, but for some reason she doesn't now. She actually looks sort of distracted. I clear my throat to get Hermione's attention and give her a look a girl will recognize as 'what's going on?' (Ron of course is clueless.)

"Oh, what, sorry? I got distracted for a moment." Wow, nice recovery Hermione.

"Distracted by what?" Ron asks.

"Oh, well um…" It's times like this I'm glad I didn't grow up an only child like Hermione; with brothers like Fred and George I've seen plenty of examples how to talk your way out of a tough spot. "Well, actually, Cho Chang."

"Chang? From Ravenclaw?" Ok, I take it back, maybe Hermione does have some skills; totally blindsided my brother there.

"Yes, that's her. Have you noticed we're seeing her around more than usual?"

"The term just started, Hermione. Maybe our classes are just near hers." Harry suggests.

"Well that's certainly possible, but what I mean is that we've been seeing her. Not just Ravenclaws in her year, but her."

"What, you think she's in it with Parkinson?" Ron suggests. Times like this I like to indulge in a little fantasy where either Ron or I are adopted.

"No, Ronald, I don't think she's in anything with Pansy Parkinson."

"Oh. Well what then?"

"Isn't it obvious? She's always staring at the same person." Hermione pauses, but neither Ron nor Harry seems to know the answer. "Oh you two are hopeless. She's staring at Harry. She's going out of her way to catch a glimpse of him."

"Me? But why…" Harry stops, clearly thinking about it. "Well she does always seem to smile when she sees me… "

"That's right, Harry, she does."

"You think she has a thing for him?" Finally, Ron guessed right. I haven't seen Chang much at all this year, but it's not like it was a big secret she's had a thing for him since last year. The way I heard it she was even hoping he'd ask her to the Yule Ball.

"That's exactly what I think, Ron." Hermione agrees.

"Um, what do I do?" Harry asks. I know he doesn't have parents and no one ever had The Talk with him, but does he really not know what to do with a girl?

"Well do you like her?"

"Well um… Maybe? Sort of?" It's not much of an answer, but I suppose it'll have to do. Boys.

"Then ask her out."

"Out to what? If she'd like to go to Hogsmeade with me or something?"

"Well yes, that's certainly one option, but as we don't know when the first Hogsmeade weekend will be, it could be weeks before your date, which I don't think she'd appreciate."

"So what do I do?"

"Just ask her to spend time with you. Walk around the grounds after class one day, stroll through the castle, go play on your brooms. I don't know; it doesn't matter. Just spend time with her."

"Oh. What if she asks me about Cedric?"

"Well, that's…" Hermione stops awkwardly. "Harry, I know that's a difficult subject for you, but keep in mind that it is for her as well. Also, well, girls tend to be more emotional than boys. You might have buried your feelings about it, but she may not be able to."

Yeah, that's an understatement. Gossip is that Chang was pretty broken up by his death and still cries now and then.

"What's that mean, Hermione?"

"Well it means that she might cry."

"Pretty sure a girl crying on a date is a bad sign, mate." Ron offers.

"Ronald, I'm trying to be serious here." Hermione frowns.

"What am I supposed to do if she breaks down crying?" Harry asks, hoping Hermione can help him.

"Be there for her; comfort her. Let her cry. Maybe put an arm around her, and just be patient with her." If this date actually happens and doesn't end in disaster Harry owes Hermione big time.

"Oh. And you think she'll actually say yes if I ask her? Wait, how can I do that if she's always with that gaggle of giggling girls that seem to always be around her..."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" Weasley patience is like Weasley money; we don't have much at all. "It's no secret she wants to go out with you Harry. The girl's going out of her way to give you chances to, so just do it. Go down to dinner, and if she's with her friends just ask to talk to her in private for a moment. This isn't hard!"

"Oh, um, ok, Ginny. Thanks." Harry and Ron mutter something about homework and head up to their dorm rooms, quickly fleeing the yelling red head.

"That had to be hard for you." Hermione tries to comfort.

"No, yelling comes naturally to me." I smile.

"You know that's not what I mean, Ginny." Yeah, I know exactly what she meant.

"Only a little. I've gotten used to it."

I've had a crush on Harry for, well, since before I met him. He was famous, he was mysterious, he was invincible, and then one day he was in my house. It was like a storybook romance. All he had to do was notice me and I knew I'd be swept off my feet in no time. Except he didn't notice me; he noticed Ron's little sister.

I watched him, peeking through barely open doors and around corners, but really, it was stupid. He was never going to notice me, not like that. I'm his best friend's sister after all. For a guy with no family I might as well be his own sister.

Not that I like it. Oh no, not one little bit. And god knows I've ranted to Hermione about it. Actually, it was the most popular topic of conversation whenever she was over at the Burrow. She stayed in my room so there were a lot of hours at night spent talking and gossiping.

Supposedly there's a Muggle word for this: friend zoned. Apparently it means someone whose love interest sees them as a friend and isn't ever going to see them as anything more. Stupid, annoying word, and unfortunately true.

"I know he's never going to see me as a romantic prospect, Hermione. I just want him to be happy."

Hermione doesn't say anything else, which I'm glad for. Because, yeah, I want Harry to be happy, that's true. But damn it, I still wish it was with me.

"What about you though, Hermione? You seemed out of it there. Even more than when Ron and Harry are off on one of their conspiracy theories and you try ignoring them without them realizing what you're doing."

"Oh, it's nothing, really."

"Hermione."

"Really Ginny, it's nothing."

"Hermione, I grew up around Fred and George; I've seen a lot of denials and they were all better than that."

"Oh. Well, it's just that… I don't even know where to start; I don't know if I want to talk about this in the first place even."

If Hermione's so upset as to not be able to string a proper sentence together then something really bad must have happened. "Hermione, it's ok. Whatever happened, it'll be ok." I get up and walk over to her, hugging her tightly.

Hermione holds onto me for a while before letting go. "Thanks, Ginny. I appreciate it, I really do. I just don't know if I'm ready to talk about this yet. I need to think first, figure things out."

"Well all right. But nothing happened where you might need a discrete trip to the infirmary or anything like that, did it?" I hope that's delicate enough but she still gets what I mean.

"What? No, nothing like that, Ginny. I wasn't sexually assaulted, don't worry." Good. That's a flavor of evil I don't know if I could handle.

"God, you had me worried there, Hermione."

"No, I think I just got caught up in some stupid inter house feud in Slytherin."

"Oh, is that all. Hmm, so that means they're as nasty to each other as they are to us?"

"Apparently so." Hermione frowns.

"So what's the big deal then?"

"I just want to take a little time and get what happened straight in my head, and then decide what to do about it."

"Um, duh? Tell a teacher." Even I know the answer to this one.

**Harry**

I've been staring at my plate, pushing around what's left of my mashed potatoes for what feels like hours. Cho's at the Ravenclaw table with a bunch of her friends (why do girls have to move in packs?). I want to ask her out, everyone tells me I should do it, that she'll say yes, but it all sounded a lot easier back in Gryffindor tower.

What am I supposed to say to her? Last year it took me weeks to get up the nerve to ask her to the Yule Ball. When I finally did it, it was all for nothing. Will this be more of the same? I get all excited, get my courage up and she says no? What then? And what if she says yes?

I don't know her at all. What are we supposed to talk about? I mean, really, what do we have in common? I suppose that's obvious: Cedric. Hermione said Cho might want to know what happened to him, and I'm the only one who does. Maybe that's all this is about?

Wonderful, just what I need; reliving the worst day of my life. Well, I suppose when my parents died was worse, but I don't really remember that. It was bad enough reliving it when I told Dumbledore what happened, I don't want to do it again.

She's getting up with her friends to leave. Great, it's now or never; all this time thinking and I'm no closer to knowing what to do.

I'll probably regret it, but I get up and start walking after her. No matter what everyone says, there's no reason she should go out with me, but now that I see her leaving I know I have to try anyway. At least then I'll know for sure, right?

She's still with all her friends, heading for the stairs (I've heard Ravenclaw has its own tower, same as Gryffindor), so I have to hurry.

"Cho!" I call out.

She stops and looks to see who's calling her name. When she sees me hurrying over, she smiles. Ok, that's a good sign. Cho waits for me to catch up, her friends hanging around.

"Hi, Harry."

"Hi. Um, do you uh, do you have a minute to talk, Cho?"

"Of course, Harry." She might have time to talk, but her friends all seem to have time to listen too.

"Um, is there any way we could talk without the big audience?" She'll probably get mad at me for trying to steal her from her friends, but this is hard enough as it is!

"Oh, sure." Cho says a few things to her friends and then walks over to me while they head off the way they were going. "So what did you want to talk about?"

"Well, er, that is…" I take a deep breath and decide to just get this over with. "Would you like to go out with me sometime, Cho?"

"I'd love to, Harry."

"Wait, what? You would?"

"Of course I would." Cho giggles. "I've been hoping you'd ask. Why do you think I've been around you so much this year?"

"I just thought that was coincidence." Everyone was right. She really was waiting for me to ask. "Wait, if you wanted to go out with me, why didn't you ask me first?"

Cho shifts uncomfortable on her feet a bit. "Well I wasn't sure how you'd feel. After the way last year ended I wasn't sure if you were… ready."

"Oh." She means Cedric of course. That and the whole messy end of the Tournament. "I, well… is there any way we can leave talk for another day?"

"Sure. I guess it isn't a very good thing to do on a first date." She says that, but I'm pretty sure a part of her is disappointed too. It's obviously important to her, but at least she's willing to be patient about it. "So when do you want to do something?"

I honestly didn't expect her to say yes, or if she did it'd be just to learn what happened to Cedric. I didn't plan for her actually wanting to go on a legit date with me. I look around quickly; maybe an idea will jump out from behind a column. No idea behind columns, but I do see something out the window.

"It's still going to be light for a few hours and there's no one on the pitch, how about we go flying?"

"Oh, that sounds lovely. Let me get my broom and we can meet at the pitch in ten minutes or so?"

"Great." I grin. It probably looks stupid, but who cares? I'm going on a date with Cho Chang!

Cho heads off to her tower and I to mine, bounding up the staircases to my dorm. It feels like these staircases are taking forever swinging back and forth, and never exactly to the landing I want to go to, but I finally make it. I yell the password to the Fat Lady's painting and run through the common room, up to my dorm.

I grab my Firebolt and start making my way back downstairs. I like Gryffindor tower, but it's too darned far down to the pitch and these moving staircases are maddening. Wait, I don't need to wait for them at all.

I jump on my broom, flying down the empty center of the tower. Take that, staircases! It only takes a few seconds to reach the ground floor and land at the door leading out to the Quidditch pitch.

When I get outside no one else is there. I suppose it's not a surprise; I did fly through the castle a lot faster than anyone can run. Well, nothing to do but wait. I walk around the pitch a bit, broom resting on my shoulder. Normally I'd just fly to kill time, but it seems a bit rude to ask Cho out to fly and start without her. Besides, it's a nice day, I don't mind just being outside.

It's amazing how relaxing being outside can be sometimes. After all the classes, homework and stress just being outside for a stroll in the grass has my mind letting go in almost no time. So much so that I miss Cho's presence until she's right in front of me.

"Oh, Cho, hi. Sorry, spaced out there. I haven't had time to just relax outside for a while."

"Fifth year is hard, yeah; there's a lot of pressure about OWLs."

"Yeah, but we're not out here to study."

We mount our brooms and push off from the ground. We fly side by side, slowly at first, but things quickly escalate into a race, almost like a game of follow the leader as we weave in and out of the stands. It's stupidly dangerous, but it's also really fun.

There's no teams, no referee, no fans, no balls or rules or official structure of any sort; it's just the two of us flying for pure love of it. I've always felt free in the air in a way I never can anywhere else, and from the way Cho's flying I know she feels exactly the same.

After a while of reckless blissful flying I land, Cho just behind me. That was fun, but there's something I want to see.

"What's going on, Harry? Why are we landing?"

"I want to try something. Switch brooms with me?"

"Um, Harry, you have a Firebolt. I've never been on anything all like that."

"I know. I want to see what you can do with it." I smile at her.

Cho hesitates only a moment before taking the offered broom and shooting off into the sky. I go after her on Cho's Comet 260, but it's nowhere near as fast, and Cho is fearless in pushing the Firebolt.

I watch her testing the Firebolt's limits, seeing how much she can push the top speed, watching her do rolls and turns her Comet can only dream of pulling off. With her waist length hair streaming behind her in the wind and a look of pure bliss on her face she's never looked more beautiful to me.

**Author's Notes:**

Thanks to that-fan for his help with editing and development. Hermione and Pansy are an interesting couple, but very improbably in cannon. Getting them to do anything more than just insult each other isn't easy.

I have to say, I'm a bit disappointed that chapter 1 got no reviews at all. Seriously, every author likes reviews, they give feedback and they let you know that someone's reading and actually has some reaction to what they read. So please, if you read this, just leave a quick review. Whether it's suggestions, questions, a whole big review or even just a sentence or two, it really does help to know someone's reading this and cares about it and if there's more or not. Thanks.


	3. I Fought the Law

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter and am making no money from this.

**Ron**

There's a new notice up outside the Great Hall, something calling itself Educational Decree Number Twenty Four. It claims "Broomsticks may not be flown on school grounds unless during authorized Quidditch practice or games."

Well that absolutely sucks. The position of keeper is vacant this year and I tried out for the team. Somehow I made it, but the thing is, I'm not exactly great so I really was hoping to get some extra practice in before the season starts. The way I've played at some or our practices, I really need it.

"So what's up with the new rule?" I ask over breakfast.

"You'd think they could have the decency to make a rule about talking with a half open mouth full of food." Hermione mutters.

"I think the rule might be my fault." Harry offers, ignoring Hermione's comment.

"How's some weird new rule your fault?"

"Well, on my way to my date with Cho last night I sort of got impatient and just flew down the tower rather than waiting for the staircases."

"Really? Did you hit anyone or scare anyone or anything?"

Harry shrugs. "Not that I saw."

"Well there you go, mate. No way it was you."

"I'm not so sure." Hermione cuts in."Umbridge and the Ministry in general are out to get Harry."

"You're being paranoid, Hermione."

"Really? What else do you call a full trial for a simple case of underage magic?"

"I don't know. Maybe they all just wanted to see Harry to tell their wives they've met him. How am I supposed to know? Point is, he got off and it's over."

"I'm not sure it's that simple, Ron."

"Oh, come off it, Hermione. You've been seeing some big conspiracy there since summer."

"Ah, I take it conspiracy theories are only allowed if you and Harry form them about Malfoy or Professor Snape?"

"They aren't conspiracies if they're true. And speaking of those, we never did figure out why Parkinson was sitting with you yesterday in Potions." Ron looks up. "She's looking over here right now, just smiling. Now there's a real conspiracy for you, Hermione."

But of course I just get a dirty look from Hermione. I don't know what that girl's problem is. Complaining about the Ministry, about house elves, yelling at us to do our homework, it's like she's never happy. That or she's only happy if she's yelling. Merlin, that'd be a scary thought. I'd hate to be the guy that ends up hitched to her.

**Hermione**

I've thought long and hard about this, but as difficult as it is, I can't let it go. When we finish eating breakfast, Ron and Harry get up to head to class, but I go in the opposite direction; I go to the head table where the teachers all sit.

It's one teacher in particular, Professor McGonagall, the head of my house that I walk to. "Excuse me, Professor. I need to talk to you."

"Ah, Miss Granger, what can I do for you?"

"Um, it's something I really need to talk to you about in private." This is personal, no one else's business. And one professor in particular, one toad of a professor, it's none of her business at all.

"Miss Granger, classes are about to begin, I'm afraid a private chat will have to wait."

"I'm afraid this isn't the sort of thing that can wait, Professor."

"I see. Very well, then, we can discuss this in my office." For most any other student she'd probably try to tell them to wait, but since it's me she's leading me to her office where she sits facing me across her desk.

"All right Miss Granger, what seems to be the problem?"

"I think I've been put under the Imperius Curse, Professor." It must sound stupid; really stupid.

"That is a very serious charge, Miss Granger. What is your basis for making this claim?"

"It was during my Prefect duties last night, Professor. I believe I was placed under it then. Not long after I felt the same sensation as when Professor Moody demonstrated the curse on us last year."

"And what were you doing when you had this… sensation?"

"It was, well…. It was something that was going to be inappropriate."

"Inappropriate?"

This is the part of this I was most dreading. If they had me steal something or anything like that it'd be easier; that's less personal. I take a breath, trying to find the right words for this. "I felt compelled to become amorous with another student. One I have no feelings for or even friendship with. I managed to break the curse, but not before we, well, we kissed."

Professor McGonagall watches me silently for a bit. "Miss Granger, I'm sure you must know how this sounds. To say nothing of the fact that the Imperious Curse is an extremely difficult magical affliction to prove.

After Voldermort's first rise to power a lot of his Death Eaters claimed they'd been under the Imperious Curse. Personally, I think it was rather obvious they weren't, but there was no proof so virtually all are walking free to this day. "I understand that, Professor, but this really did happen."

"This is beyond a simple infraction of school rules. Use of the Imperious Curse carries a sentence in Azkaban, as I'm sure you well know."

"I know, Professor."

"And you know who did this to you? You know with enough certainty to make this accusation knowing what the consequences could be?"

"I do, Professor." I've got nothing against that Slytherin girl, well I didn't before now, but as far as I'm concerned she deserves to be in prison. This goes way beyond some school prank.

"I see. Very well then. I will speak with the Headmaster, and I expect that he will wish to speak with you as well. Until then, go to your classes please."

"Yes Professor. Thank you."

**Cho**

I'm not really sure what I want to do with my life. Last year during the career advice session I said I wanted to work in magical research and development, inventing new spells and potions and things like that. It's interesting work. Takes intelligence, research, analysis and creativity. My OWL scores were good enough that if I get NEWT scores to match next year I can go into the field.

The thing is, I really don't care about it. That's not to say I wouldn't do it. It really is interesting sounding work, but in the same way school is interesting. I like reading and learning, but I can't claim to have real passion for it. I'm good at school; I have been since I was a little girl. I'm smart (actually a test my parents had me take says I'm a genius) but I do well in school because of that, not because I really love it or work super hard. I'm just plain smart enough to remember the lectures the first time I hear them, recall books after the first reading, and school is just a matter of writing that all down for tests and homework. It's easy, really.

Research and development sounds like it would be mostly more of the same. Read books, memorize them, then piece them together in some ways that I haven't read in other books. It's sort of the same as school, but with a puzzle at the end instead of a test. Not a bad life, and just like school I'm sure I'd be good at it.

I imagine it'd feel a lot like school too; not particularly good, not particularly bad, just something I do. It fills the hours and occupies my mind, and it'd pay, so that's not terrible. On the other hand, a good math problem can occupy my mind just as well. I have about as much passion for both. That's the thing, as long as it's new, school, that job; it all feels about the same to me. Just as interesting as reading some Muggle math book that calls itself calculus. If it's new and engages my brain I'm ok with it.

Quidditch though, that's different. That's something I really enjoy. No, more than that, I love that game. Traditionally it's just the, well, the less smart Ravenclaws that are on the team. I only tried out for the team because everyone teased me so much. It was a big joke, the brainy Ravenclaw girl trying out for the team. I was supposed to make a fool of myself, everyone have a good laugh and we all move on. I just did it to shut them up, but somehow I was actually good at it.

Well, not just good; I was really good at it. Everyone was shocked (me especially). What really got to me was the fact that the game was fun. Not just new, not just the latest in the endless stream of content my brain needs to stay happy, this was something I really loved. It was fast and liberating, it took reflexes and quick eyes and it made me see things and think in ways schoolwork never did. After that first tryout they made me their starting seeker.

To be perfectly honest, ever since that day I've had this secret fantasy of going pro. My parents hit the roof when I told them I was on the team; it's so dangerous, it's unbecoming for a girl to play a sport like that, it takes too much time. All that, and more. If it was anything else I'd have done what they said and quit the team, but I liked this too much. So for about the only time in my life, I disobeyed my parents. They weren't thrilled I ignored them (no way was I going to tell them I was refusing to do what they told me), but when time went on and my grades stayed at the top of my class and I didn't get hurt they eased back on their criticism.

When Harry let me use his Firebolt though, well then all of a sudden my silly little secret dream came roaring back and it didn't look silly anymore. I was good on my Comet, but on that Firebolt I could do things I'd never dreamed of trying before.

I tried doing moves I'd seen the pros do in the Quidditch matches I'd seen, and I was able to pull them off, all on my first try. Harry and I flew through the stands, did stupid stunts, and came close to hitting everything on the pitch, just to see if we could. We were hugely reckless and on that broom. I could do it. I didn't have to keep thinking about what I wanted to do, making allowances for the performance of a broom, for the first time what I was flying could actually keep up with my mind.

I know it wasn't my broom and it was only for that one afternoon, but that date with Harry showed me a future I never thought was anything more than a fantasy. A future where I didn't just do what I was good at, it was a future where I did something I loved.

Dating Harry's a weird thing for me. I have some real conflicting emotions when it comes to him, Cedric, how both were interested in me and how I dated one and now he's dead and the only witness to it is my new boyfriend. It's pretty messed up. And I'm not sure why I wanted to go out with Harry now. I think it's partly because I like him, partly because I need to know what happened with Cedric. How much of one versus the other is something I haven't figured out, and that's been bothering me.

On that pitch last night I forgot all that though, forgot all about Cedric, forgot the fact he was dead, forgot all about everything but flying. It was pure bliss; the perfect date with my boyfriend.

The problem is, fantasies for the future or not, we don't live on brooms, and no matter how nice a date it was, it still was basically running from our problems. If Cedric hadn't died would we still be together? Now that he's gone is being with his rival betraying him?

After Cedric died I know some people were saying the whole He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named thing was lie; they said that Harry did it all himself. The reasons seemed to differ, but most came down to him either doing it for glory to win the cup, or doing it for jealousy to win, well, me.

I try not to listen to that sort of thing, but, let's face it: there's not facts either way, just Harry's word. Well, I guess it's only technically that. He told his story to Professor Dumbledore and he told the rest of the school what happened. As far as I know no one else has heard it from Harry first hand.

Any way I look at it, there's no way I can avoid asking Harry about this. He might not like it, but there's no getting past this otherwise. If he can't or won't answer then it leads to some conclusions I really don't like. I hope it isn't that, but I just don't know.

**Hermione**

Two days after I told Professor McGonagall that I'd been placed under the Imperious curse I'm called into the headmaster's office. It's late in the evening, just before I'd normally start my rounds that I find the head of my house outside Dumbledore's office, waiting for me.

"Right on time as always, Miss Granger" Professor McGonagall greets me. "I take it you have not changed your mind about this?"

"It really happened, Professor. I was placed under the Imperious curse, and I know who did it to me."

"Very well, then. Once we go inside the headmaster will want to hear your account of what happened, in full detail this time. Assuming he finds you credible he will have the accused student brought here so that a Ministry official can question them and determine what additional action, if any will be taken."

It all sounds simple enough. I'm sure I'll need to testify at whatever trial there is as well, but at least I'll have done my part to remove at least this small piece of filth from the wizarding world.

Professor McGonagall leads me inside, where as promised Professor Dumbledore is waiting. "Miss Granger. I wish I could say it's good to see you, but, well, we both know that is not the case today. Before you begin sharing your account with me, perhaps you would be so good as to tell us which student Professor McGonagall should retrieve for us?"

"Tracey Sheffield, Slytherin, my year."

"Minerva, if you would be so kind? I think it appropriate if you bring Severus here as well, please."

Professor McGonagall leaves to fetch the girl and I start telling Dumbledore what happened. It's awkward and almost as embarrassing as having actually kissed Parkinson. I'm sure whenever she decides to try and tell the school I'm a lesbian or whatever sophomoric game she's planning that will be almost as bad, but it's a problem for another day.

I tell Dumbledore everything (thank god I broke the curse when I did or this story would be way too embarrassing to repeat). He listens to my story, not saying a word until I'm done. "That must have been difficult to tell. But you were right to come forward, you were the victim of a serious crime."

Darned right it was a serious crime. And here's the criminal now, along with the head of her house, mine, and of all people, Umbridge. "What is she doing here?" I ask before I can stop myself.

"Why I'm here as a Ministry official, dear." As condescending as she is in class. "Why, were you expecting an Auror?"

"Well, yes…"

"Rest assured I can handle this just fine. There's no need to trouble an Auror for this. So you say you were placed under the Imperious curse, is that correct?"

"Yes." I answer a bit reluctantly.

"And what led you to this conclusion?"

"Professor Moody placed us under the curse last year in Defense Against the Dark Arts class. This felt the same."

"As I recall it was not Professor Moody at all, but rather a Death Eater."

"Yes, well, that's true, but still the curse was cast on us and this felt very much the same."

"The same as when a Death Eater cursed you?" Damn it, she's twisting my words.

"Ma'am, I'm not aware of the Imperious curse feeling different based on who casts it."

"This is not a forum to test your knowledge of the Unforgivable Curses, Miss Granger. It is one to address your accusations."

"I know that; I'm trying to explain that this felt the same, that feeling of contentedly floating along while compulsions come into your brain and your body acts on them unless you break the curse."

"And you claim to have done just that: broken the curse?"

"I do."

"I find that hard to believe. Similarly, I find it hard to believe that a fifth year could even cast the curse."

"It happened!"

"So you claim. A fifth year could not only cast an Unforgivable curse, but do so successfully. Are you sure your brain isn't a bit addled, dear?"

"I'm fine."

"I'm only asking because that is the effect of an improperly cast Imperius curse."

"Yes, I know the effects, professor. My mind is fine; the curse was cast properly."

"And do you have any proof of this besides your word? Another witness perhaps?"

"Well, no… But it did happen!"

"I'm sorry, but seeing as you have no real evidence to offer…"

"Her memories are admissible as evidence. As it happens I have a pensive in this office." Dumbledore offers with a smile.

"Yes, I'd be glad to offer my memories as evidence." I quickly agree.

The toad woman looks me over for a minute before speaking again. "Tell me, Miss Granger, you are Muggle born, is that correct?"

"I hardly see what my parents have to do with this."

"That's hardly surprising; you are only a fifth year after all. Many things are still above your head, I'm sure. But you did not answer my question. Are both of your parents Muggles?"

"Well, yes…" Uh oh.

"Ah, I see. Well in that case then afraid your memories are inadmissible."

"What? Why?"

"Well it's all rather complicated, you see. It has to do with magic in Muggle borns being a random mutation that could potentially affect other aspects of the mind, memory included. Obviously in pure blood families that have had magic in the line for generations that is not an issue."

"That's preposterous!"

"Manners, Miss Granger. I am a professor of this school as well a Ministry official. You will not raise your voice to me. And as for your assertion, it remains to be seen. The matter is being studied at the Ministry as we speak, but results could be years away. In the meantime I feel it would be inappropriate to allow questionable evidence in matters of law."

And just like that I'm reduced to practically nothing as far as the law is concerned.

"As there is no real evidence in this case, the Ministry will not be taking action." It was obvious already, but the toad apparently wanted to say it anyway.

"I see." Dumbledore takes over. "Then as this ends the Ministry's involvement this is now an internal Hogwarts matter. I think two hundred fifty points from Slytherin House is appropriate. Additionally, Miss Sheffield, the head of your house and I will hear your side of this and determine possible additional sanctions."

Good. She's guilty; I hope they throw her out.

"Hem, hem." comes Umbridge's annoying little cough. "I'm afraid I must stop you there, Headmaster. I do not feel these punishments are appropriate."

"While I do, of course, value your opinion Dolores, I am afraid you have no authority in this matter."

"Actually, you are mistaken there. You see, Cornelius was afraid this matter might be ill handled, and so Educational Decree Number Twenty Five was passed. I had just received word of it when I was notified I was needed for this meeting you see. It states 'The High Inquisitor will henceforth have supreme authority over all punishments, sanctions and removal of privileges pertaining to the students of Hogwarts, and the power to alter such punishments, sanctions and removals of privileges as may have been placed by other staff members.'"

"Now, I am afraid I will have to exercise this authority here." the toad continues. "I find no evidence of any wrongdoing here on Miss Sheffield's part, so of course she will receive no punishment. Miss Granger, however, well, I don't think I need to explain how serious this charge is. Why, poor Miss Sheffield could have found herself in Azkaban Prison potentially! I think a week's detention as well as a loss of one hundred points for your house is appropriate. Normally I would not be so lenient, but I think you are not beyond saving Miss Granger, so I hope you will see as an opportunity to change your ways."

A week's detention? For me? I'm the victim here! I was the one placed under the Imperius curse, and I was the one that did the right thing by coming forward. And what, she's going easy on my because she thinks I'll turn on Harry to avoid more of her version of justice?

"This is preposterous." McGonagall snaps.

"It is the law." Umbridge gloats.

"I will, of course, need to see this decree in writing, Dolores." Dumbledore calmly cuts in.

"Of course, headmaster." I guess hoping she made this up was a long shot; she has the stupid thing waiting in a pocket of her robes.

Dumbledore reads the law over, seeming to take forever. I guess he's reading it several times? Finally he looks up, giving me a sad look before turning back to the toad. "Yes, this all appears to be in order. So it seems we are done here. Minerva, Severus, if you could stay a moment please?"

"I believe you have you have your Prefect duties to attend to, Miss Granger." I take McGonagall's hint and leave as quickly as I can.

I start my patrols, looking for any students I can find. Normally I try to be fair, but today I'm looking for someone to take my anger out on. I shouldn't, but frankly, who cares? If I actually catch anyone the toad will probably just undo any points I take away.

Not that it matters; the only one I find Pansy damned Parkinson. She's leaning in a doorway, with that same smirk she seems to love so much. Wait, is she in the doorway of the same classroom I kissed her in? Damn it, how did I get here? Stupid body, taking me here of all places.

"Well well, fancy meeting you here, Granger." she greets.

"Not now, Parkinson. I'm really not in the mood."

"Awe, is that why you came to me? Hoping I'd kiss it and make it all better?"

Ugh, that's right; she thinks I kissed her because I wanted to. "Look, Parkinson, we need to talk." I lead Parkinson into the classroom, locking the door behind us.

"And here I thought that line only gets used when two people have actually dated a while."

"I'm trying to be serious here. That kiss, it wasn't me. I was under the Imperius curse."

The girl looks at me and breaks up laughing. "Seriously, Granger? The Imperius curse? That's the best you can come up with? Damn, I'm disappointed; I really thought you'd do better than that."

"What do you mean? It's the truth."

"Oh come on. I've watched you, sitting at meals, sweating, thinking, looking over at me to see if I'm watching. And the whole time I know exactly what you're thinking. Why hasn't Parkinson said something yet? Why isn't it all over the school? When she does say something what do I say about it? And all you could come up with is the God damned Imperius curse? That's pathetic. I expected more, a hell of a lot more."

"Well I'm sorry I didn't impress you!"

"You should be. You're supposed to be the smart one, the know-it-all, the Gryffindor princess. If I wanted to taunt an idiot I'd target Weasley. You're supposed to actually have a brain."

"I don't give a damn what you think, Parkinson. I'll have you know I was just in Dumbledore's office talking about this exact thing."

"And did he buy it?"

"Well, yes… but Umbridge was there and she didn't, and she had this new Educational Decree that gave her final say over all punishments, so the bitch who did this to me got off scot free and I got a week's detention."

Parkinson laughs at me. Again. "Well of course Dumbledore bought it; he'd buy anything your little golden trio sells."

"He bought it because it was true."

"Oh come on, Granger, this is just sad. Well, no, in a way I love the irony. When the Dark Lord fell the first time, what did all the Death Eaters claim? The Imperius curse. They didn't do it, evil dark magic made them do it! And here you are, the Gryffindor golden girl making the exact same claim."

"Hey, don't go comparing me to Death Eaters!"

"Why not? If you're using the exact same lame excuse it seems fair to me. If it works for Lucius Malfoy, why not Hermione Granger, right?"

"And your parents too?"

I see that smirk on her face vanish replaced with anger, but then just as fast as it was gone, the stupid smirk is back. "That's more like it, Granger. Quick on your feet and eager to fight back. But don't you dare try and go after my parents again."

"Oh, so you can compare me to a Death Eater like Malfoy but I can't talk about your Death Eater family?"

"That's right, Granger. You don't know a damned thing about pure blood families or my family either, so shut the hell up about it."

"Oh, are you mad, Parkinson? Good, now you know how I feel."

"What, the first time a teacher didn't believe you? Must have been tragic for you."

"She treated me like a moron! She said my memory was useless because I'm Muggle born. Like magic is some freak accident for me and must have scrambled my brain. I wanted to kill that idiot woman!"

"Oh, so that's why you came here. Not for another make out session but so the evil Slytherin could teach you the killing curse."

"No, of course not. Wait, you actually know it?"

"Of course I know it. The Unforgivables aren't hard, Granger; Half my house knows them."

'How?" I know I'm mad at her, but I'm more curious right now.

"Because those of us who come from proper wizarding families actually have parents who teach us magic."

"Your parents taught you the killing curse?"

"They taught me to take care of myself, Granger."

"What kind of parents teach their kids to kill?" I know she said not to ask about her parents, but I can't help myself.

"I told you my family's off limits, Mudblood. I damn sure didn't come here for that."

"No you came here thinking what, I wanted to have sex with you?"

"I figured you planed to try for a make out session and see where things go from there. Which by the way would have been a lot more fun than some lame line about being cursed."

"I don't want to kiss you, Parkinson. I didn't want to the first time it happened, and I assure you, there will not be a second time."

"Fine. I'll just make sure everyone knows what you did." she shrugs.

"And I'll tell them I was under the Imperius curse."

"Yeah, you do that, see how many people believe you; see how many people buy the story. Especially after no one goes to Azkaban, and the only one who goes to detention is you."

Damn it. She's right; the punishments make me look like a liar. "It's true though…"

"Isn't it about time you learned that life isn't about what's true, it's what you can make people believe, Granger?"

"Fine. What do you want?"

Parkinson laughs in triumph, like some cliché movie villain. God, there's got to be something I can do. I can't lose, not again, not after that toad beat me. "Wait,Veritaserum!" I interrupt her moment of victory.

"What was that, Granger?"

"Veritaserum. I could use Veritaserum to prove it."

"Have some on you, do you?"

"Well, no…"

"Oh, that's a shame. And it takes a month to brew. I'm a patient girl, Granger, but I don't think I'll be that patient with your little secret." she taunts.

"There isn't any around Slytherin house?"

"But Veritaserum is illegal to use, Granger. You should know that."

"Come on, we both know they teach how to make it in NEWT potions; there's got to be some around. You must be able to lay your hands on some."

"Now why would I do that? From where I'm standing things are looking pretty darned good. I've got something great on you, your defense is insultingly bad… Yeah, I don't see why I'd want to change things here."

"Because I'd owe you." I choke out.

"Hermione Granger in my debt? Well that certainly does sound tempting. Hmm, I might have to think about that." Parkinson grins. The bitch has me and she knows it.

"Can you get the stuff or not?"

"Of course I can, Granger. In a place like Slytherin house you don't think a truth serum is something we'd have around? Besides, like you said, it's taught to seventh years and the potions master is the head of our house. Do try using that much hyped brain of yours, please."

"Fine, so do we have a deal? You get the Veritaserum, I take it to prove I didn't kiss you of my own free will and I'm left owing you."

She makes a show of thinking about, pacing around with a finger to her lips. "Deal. Tomorrow, this same classroom."

"Fine." I try leaving, but Parkinson blocks the door. "What now?"

"I want a kiss." She grins at me.

"What? Absolutely not!"

"It's what I came here for after all. You finally found a use for that big mouth of yours I like; It just wouldn't feel right if I left disappointed."

"Don't push it, Parkinson."

"Push it? You mean like someone who kisses me out of the blue, then has some lame story that the teachers have already declared a lie? Like someone who just expects me to sit on such a wonderful story about my favorite Gryffindor? Like expecting me to come up with an illegal potion in a day? Is that the sort of thing you mean, Granger? Sorry, but you're out of indulgence today. So I want a kiss or no deal."

"But you already agreed to our deal!"

"Don't you ever listen to that idiot Weasley you're always with? I'm a Slytherin; we lie. It's what we do."

I sigh, defeated. "Fine." I lean in and give Parkinson a quick peck on the cheek.

"Oh come on, Granger! What am I, your grandmother? I want a kiss; a real one."

Right now I think I might actually hate Parkinson more than Umbridge. Unfortunately, I don't really have a choice here. I lean into Parkinson, kissing her. She wraps her arms around me, deepening the kiss as she pulls me close. I'm not really sure how or when, but at some point I took hold of Parkinson in my arms too.

Our first kiss felt good, but I just assumed it was the Imperius curse; it makes following orders feel quite pleasant, after all. But god help me, kissing this girl really does feel good. I hate her, and I kind of hate myself for how much I'm enjoying this, but I really like kissing Pansy Parkinson.

The kiss finally ends (I ran out of air) and Parkinson looks down at me, grinning. "Hmm, not bad, Granger. You've got some talent."

"Yes, quite nice, Parkinson." I reply, straightening my robes (and making darned sure to not look her in the eye.) "So tomorrow then."

"It's a date." I leave rather than take the bait.

**Author's Notes:**

Like always, thanks to that-fan for help with editing and development. I'd also like to thank the people who reviewed the last chapter. It gets a bit discouraging without them. Of course, new chapter so there's the obligatory request for me. Every author loves them, after all. So please, if you read and have something to say do leave a review. Thanks.


	4. Where to Go From Here?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter and am making no money from this.

**Sirius**

I remember a time when I actually lived my life; when I had friends, I could spend time with them, come and go as I pleased, talk to who I wanted and do what I wanted. That was a long time ago. I've spent the past decade and a half in prison, a dozen years in Azkaban and then three more in my ancestral home.

Calling it an ancestral home makes it sound like a grand manor with grounds and gardens, ponds and streams, all encircling a majestic estate. Certainly there are pure blood families that have things like that, unfortunately, mine is not one of them. The Malfoys and the Parkinsons might have all that, but the Blacks, we just have a row house: a bloody house like thousands of others in London that isn't even a free standing structure. I can't even claim to be the heir to four walls of my own; two are shared.

Granted my current prison is a bit bigger than the cell in Azkaban, and certainly there are fewer Dementors, but it has its own sources of morbid depression. I ran away from this home as a child, never meaning to go back. Looking at it, it might as well be a Death Eater lair. Any outright dangerous things have been removed, but the décor and the old house elf are still here.

Apparently my accommodations and comfort aren't a priority. I could try fixing the place up myself; it's not like I don't have the time. But no one sees fit to get me the materials I need. They just come and go on Order business and for the most part ignore me.

I'm fairly certain that at some point orders went out to keep me partly in the dark on the goings on in the outside world. Maybe they're afraid I'll go off on my own or start telling Harry things they don't want him to know? It's almost like I have a reputation for ignoring the rules and coming and going as I please and risk be damned.

The only people who really take the time to talk to me are Moony and Tonks, who has the most adorable crush on my old friend. Unfortunately they don't have anything to tell me about the major goings on outside these thrice damned walls except how early and bad flu season seems to be this year. So unless I'm to believe that Tonks' favorite Quidditch players being out sick is part of Lord Voldermort's master plan then I'm not hearing a damned thing about that blasted snake.

I miss the summer; so many people were here, especially Harry. He was only here for a little while, but I was glad just to see him at all. He's practically the only family I have left (at least that I'm willing to talk to. My cousins Narcissa and Bellatrix are hardly people I want to see again) and I'm what he has left. If I weren't a wanted criminal I'd actually be his guardian; his stand in father in effect.

I never thought of myself as parent material. In fact I've made peace with the fact that I'll never even have a wife, never mind a kid of my own. I'm too irresponsible to raise a child; I always thought I'd play the part of the rich uncle spoiling a kid. I suppose that's fine, because at this point I've missed most of Harry's life. His first step, his first word, his first day of school, all of it lost to the years in Azkaban. He's practically a man now; the only first left is his first girlfriend.

He didn't have one yet, as of this summer, but I'm not exactly current in terms of talking to him. As an escaped prisoner I can't even send mail. Maybe if that Umbridge woman wasn't there, but now the risk is just too high. I haven't heard she's intercepting mail yet, but I know it's only a matter of time.

I'm glad he has friends though. Being alone is misery I know he's had to endure for much of his life. His friends are an odd mix, and I have to say I wish Hermione would have read a bit less of the rather biased library here over the summer, but he gets along well with them. Personally I think playing referee between Ron and Hermione is half of what Harry has to do, but I think he actually enjoys it in an odd sort of way.

It's not so odd, really. His summers are devoid of any contact with any real people (his Muggle relatives don't count) so settling his friend's disputes makes up for it I imagine. As alone as I am, I certainly can relate. Settling a dispute between friends certainly would beat the hell out of hearing about sick Quidditch players.

**Ginny**

The common room isn't the best place to do homework, but some people try and use it for that anyway. I'm reading a trashy romance novel here at the moment, but Harry and Ron are trying to do their divination homework. I guess it makes a bit of sense, since they aren't actually doing the work, just making up ridiculous predictions of their own deaths.

Even sadder is the fact they've been doing that for ages and somehow they manage to pass the class. Personally I don't see why they don't drop the thing; Hermione did, and it's pretty obvious she was right to do so. If you can just make up predictions and pass then there isn't much real divining going on, is there?

As usual, they're also hoping to copy Hermione's homework in all their other subjects when she gets back from her Prefect rounds, which should be any time now. You might think since she's about to get back Fred and George would be more careful, but you'd be wrong.

They're working away on some new project of theirs, something they're calling Skip Boxes. I think the idea is you take whatever's in the box and then get sick enough to miss class and have an antidote to take once you want to leave the infirmary. It isn't really working out that way, though. The antidote part isn't really doing its job, and the sick part is a bit heavier on the projectile vomiting than they seem to want.

Friend and relatives aside, the real reason most people are in the common room at this hour isn't homework or my brothers' experiments; it's because of lost house points. A little while ago word came down that we lost a full hundred points, and that somehow or other Hermione was the cause. So everyone is here waiting for her to get back from her rounds so they can ask her about it.

Finally, we hear the portrait open and Hermione walks in. Instantly everyone is talking at once. "Is it true?" "What happened?" "What did you do?" "How could you?" All those and a lot more all at once.

"What? What's going on here?" Hermione looks around. She doesn't seem like she expected this at all. "Wait, Fred, George, are you experimenting on other students?"

"Never mind that."

"The question is what did you do?" I can never tell which is which, especially when they do that double talking thing.

"What do you mean what did I do?"

"Hermione, everyone's saying you lost a hundred points for Gryffindor." Harry explains.

"Oh that; god, I'd almost forgotten about that."

"So it's true? And how do you lost that many points and then just go and forget about it?" Ron looks at Hermione in disbelief.

"Yes, it's true."

"Merlin, I've never heard of anyone losing a hundred points at once. What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!"

"You must have done something…"

"No, Ronald. I did not do a single thing wrong."

"Then why did they take off points?"Ron's comment is met with a glare that looks like Hermione's try at a killing curse just with her eyes. "Ok, ok, I can take a hint. Sorry. Say, um, Harry, let's go up to our dorm and finish our homework there, mate."

My brother and Harry retreat upstairs and the rest of our house seems to take the hint. After all, if those two can't get anything out of Hermione they've got no chance at all. Free of the barrage of questions, Hermione collapses into a chair next to me.

"Wow, you look bad, Hermione. Are you ok?"

"I don't know, Ginny. It's just… Nothing seems to be going right lately."

"Want to talk about it?"

"I'm not sure. I don't even know where to start with it all."

"Just tell me what happened and we can go from there." I suggest.

She thinks about it for a bit and then she does exactly that. She tells me about the Imperius curse, about kissing Pansy Parkinson, about how things went with Dumbledore and Umbridge and finally about Parkinson again.

"I can't believe they'd use the Imperius curse. How do people in our year even know how to cast that properly?"

"Apparently some parents teach that to their kids."

"Seriously?"

"That's what Parkinson said."

"That's messed up. What did this girl even think would happen with a weird order like that?"

"I'm guessing she thought Parkinson and I would fight in public and then we start... um, kissing and I seduce her and then um…. Parkinson looks bad for doing improper things with a Muggle born? A social pecking order thing maybe?"

"Oh, wow." Social standing's never been a big thing for me. I guess coming from my family you really start with none in wizarding society, so it's just sort of normal. If I was from a big time family would it be different?

"That toad Umbridge was a lot worse than the actual curse. Being under the Imperius curse is sort of pleasant, like you're floating almost. I wanted to keep her out of it though. I talked to McGonagall where Umbridge couldn't hear. I thought they'd send an Auror and I'd bypass her completely. Instead she shows up and basically says I'm not a person in the eyes of the law."

"I still can't believe that. Is that stuff about your memories not being admissible really true?"

"How should I know? The idiot ministry does a lot of stupid things, why not one more?" Ok, she's really mad. I think it's not just about this, but about the Ministry in general. But that's a conversation for a whole other time.

"Oh, um, sorry, didn't mean anything by it."

"No, I'm sorry, Ginny, I didn't mean to snap. I'm just so… I don't know what to call it."

"It's ok, Hermione. If Pansy Parkinson made me kiss her I'd be upset too."

Hermione looks at me sheepishly. "You know, that's the most messed up part. It actually wasn't terrible."

"What wasn't?"

"Um, the kissing part."

"What do you mean?"

"I, well, I kind of liked it. I liked kissing Pansy Parkinson."

I wait for Hermione to laugh at the joke, but she just sits there watching me. Wait, so this isn't a joke? "You uh, you liked it?"

"Yes, Ginny. I know it's terrible and messed up, but god help me I liked it. The first time I thought it was just that stupid curse making me feel that way, but the second time, no curse and it really felt good."

"Wow, Hermione. That's… um… I'm not sure where to go with that. So, well… I didn't know you liked girls. I mean, in that way."

"I honestly never gave it much thought before."

"But you like boys too? I mean, you had a huge crush on Lockhart your second year and then went to the ball with Krum last year, right?"

"Well, actually I liked Lockhart because he'd written all those books. And when Krum asked me I only went with him to shut Harry and Ron up."

"You went to shut them up? I don't understand."

"Those two love to go on about Quidditch, it's so annoying sometimes. I swear sometimes they do it on purpose just to shut me out. So when this guy they hero worshipped so much asked me out I said yes, I think mostly just to get back at them. They couldn't shut me out when I was going with their hero and all."

"And I thought I was vindictive."

"Hey!"

"Sorry, it's just, well… that's devious."

"Um, thank you? I think?"

"So does this mean you and Parkinson are, well, Merlin, this is hard to say, going out?"

"No, we are not going out, Ginny."

"But you want to?"

"I most certainly do not! She's a vile girl."

"But you said you liked kissing her." Hermione stops short. I think she's not sure what to say.

"Ginny, I honestly don't know what to make of this. I never thought about girls like that, and I certainly never kissed one. God knows I never dreamed of kissing Parkinson. She's mean and cruel and a terrible person. She's the last person on Earth I should be doing that with but, well…. It's all just so confusing…"

I never thought I'd see a moment like this. Hermione Granger, smartest girl I know, confused, withdrawn and looking for help. And to me of all people! This girl is supposed to be the best and brightest, one of the people everyone expects to stand out in our generation. I'm just a regular girl. But she's my friend, I need to try and say something here.

"Hermione if you're into girls, that's ok. Wait, you aren't interested in me like that are you? Because no offense, but I like boys."

"No, I'm not looking for anything like that with you, Ginny." Ok, that's a relief. This is already weird enough without worry if Hermione is going to hit on me.

"So like I was saying, it doesn't bother me. I don't know how it is with Muggles, but most wizards probably won't care. The ones who really do are the purebloods, and I think with them it's because lesbians don't make kids to keep the bloodline going."

"Ginny, I never said I was a lesbian. I have no idea if I am or not."

"Ok, well I'm just saying that if it turns out you are, it's ok. Only the pure bloods and really traditional types will have a problem. Well, I guess if Parkinson likes making out with you maybe not all pure bloods, I don't know. Um, anyway, the point is, it's fine, either way."

"But how do I know if I'm a lesbian or not, Ginny?"

"Um, try looking at girls at see if you get turned on? That's what guys do, isn't it? It seems to work for them. Merlin knows everyone stared at Fleur Delacour enough last year."

"That makes sense."

"Just try not to stare too much at some guy's girlfriend. They get insecure about that. So Cho Chang is out. Well, assuming that date went well. I haven't actually asked…"

"They went flying together, and apparently it went quite well. It seems like Cho's as nuts about flying as Harry is. He let her try that Firebolt and supposedly that was a big thing." Hermione doesn't get how amazing that broom is, but I do. If Chang got to use it no wonder it was a good date. I'd kill to get to use that thing.

"So are they going out again?"

"I don't know. I think Harry didn't actually think to ask her on a second date."

"Wow, he's so hopeless with girls." Hermione nods. "So anyway, yeah, try checking out girls that aren't Chang or me and see how it goes."

"And what if it isn't all girls? What if it's just Pansy Parkinson I, um, I'm into?"

"Well then um… um, no offense, but I don't think I'll be double dating with you two or anything like that."

"Ginny, you don't have a boyfriend, do you?"

"That's not exactly the big obstacle here."

**Cho**

Marietta's been trying to corner me for a talk ever since my date with Harry. I've managed to stay with groups of friends and never be alone, but it's a stalling tactic, that's it. It's not that I don't like Marietta; I do. We've been friends for years, since before we were at Hogwarts in fact.

She's always been the bossy one; I've been the popular one. I know she's always sort of resented the fact I seem to make friends so easily, that so many people are comfortable being around me and that they only spend time with her because she's with me. It makes her a little biter and even bossier at times, which is a shame; she's really a nice person when you get to know her and if she'd relax just a bit I know she'd have as many friends as I do.

I've never told anyone, but I'm secretly a bit envious of Marietta. She's so sure of herself, so assertive. I'd like to be like that, and I try to be, but I've never managed to be in her league. Unfortunately, as much as I admire her normally, right now I wish she was just a bit less determined.

I'm in the common room at the moment, sitting around a coffee table with some friends. Hiding in plain sight, you know? If you're trying to avoid someone it can be a good tactic; let them look in all the places they think you'd go to avoid them and all the while you're out in the open.

Unfortunately, the tactic doesn't work this time. Marietta walks up to us and looks at the girls I'm with. "Sorry, but I need to talk to Cho for a minute. In private." The girls all look at Marietta and then back to me, not sure what to do. "Now." And there's that assertiveness. Everyone I'm with gets up and leaves and Marietta sits down across from me.

"You've been avoiding me, Cho."

"What? No I haven't. I've just been busy. You know how it gets, there's schoolwork, practice, people need me for this or that, and then on top of that I get lost in a book. Things just come up and the hours fly by."

"Uh huh." Yeah, I don't think I'd have bought that excuse either. "Well, it's a good thing I caught you now. It feels like we haven't talked in ages, Cho. We're best friends after all, we should talk."

"Um, sure. So, how's things for you? Finish your potions homework yet?"

"I'll get to it later. Actually, what's on my mind now is you. I hear you've got a new boyfriend, Cho."

"Well I don't know if I'd call it that. We went out once, that's all."

Marietta's problem here isn't with me. Her mother works at the Ministry, see, and Harry Potter's name is as bad as it gets around that place. For most people it's just the smears they read in the _Prophet_, but if you work at the Ministry it's more than that. They seem to really want to destroy Harry's reputation, and Marietta's bought into that all the way.

"You know about him, Cho. You can't trust him; he's dangerous."

"We don't know that for sure, Marietta; just because the paper says it doesn't mean it's true."

"What, so you believe all that nonsense about You-Know-Who being back?"

"Well, I didn't say that…"

"So which is it, Cho? You can't have it both ways. Either you believe him or you don't. The Ministry and the _Prophet_ don't. Are you saying you do?"

"I'm saying I don't know."

"Well I do. So what's the problem for you, Cho? You aren't calling the entire government, my mother and I liars, are you?"

"No! I'm not calling anyone a liar, Marietta. I just don't know for sure, and I don't see the harm in finding out the truth for myself."

"Cedric found plenty of harm." And there's her trump card: the dead boyfriend, the slain Hufflepuff, all those clichés.

"There's no evidence at all that Harry had anything to do with that, Marietta."

"If not him then who? He was the only one there. Either he killed Cedric, for whatever reason, or every authority figure in all of wizarding England is wrong and You-Know-Who is back and did it. I don't see how this is a hard one at all, Cho."

"Professor Dumbledore doesn't believe Harry did it."

"All right, fine, the one and only authority figure in the entire country. But seriously Cho, he's not exactly young. Has it ever occurred to you that he might be starting to lose it a bit?

"All right, Marietta, I'll grant you that might be true. Might be. But as I see it, there's only one way to be sure."

"But it could be dangerous, Cho!"

"It's possible, yes. You could be right, maybe You-Know-Who isn't back and Harry did kill Cedric. Who knows, maybe he did it all in some big weird insane scheme to get together with me. Or maybe it's exactly like Professor Dumbledore said. The only way to find out is for me to ask Harry."

"And if he is insane who knows what could happen to you."

"In that case it's a good thing I have a best friend who doesn't trust him to come save me, right?" Flattery; it works wonders. "Either way, I need to know what happened, Marietta. If Harry didn't do anything then I'll learn the truth, hopefully feel better and have a boyfriend. If he's insane then you save me and we make sure he rots in Azkaban. Either way I put the whole thing with Cedric behind me."

"Cho, can't you just move on without this?"

"It's not that simple. I really had fun on my date with Harry. I'm really hoping he's on the level, because I like him; I want to keep being his girlfriend. Cedric's important, but this isn't just about him. So please, Marietta, can you just trust me on this? Back me up and all that?"

"All right, I can do that, Cho." I know she isn't happy; she really was hoping to break Harry and I up in this talk. Now maybe she'll get her wish in the near future, but it won't be here, and it won't be without giving Harry a chance to offer up some answers.

**Ron**

I'm heading down to lunch with Hermione. Harry said he'd meet us there.

"Ron, we need to talk." What? Aren't I supposed to be in a relationship with her or something before I hear that?

"What about?"

"I'm worried about our Defense Against the Dark Arts class."

"Why? Aren't you acing it like every other class ever?"

"That's not the point." Is this girl never happy?

"All right, I give up. Just what is the point, Hermione?"

"The point, Ronald is that Defense Against the Dark Arts is not just another class."

"And why is it not just another class?"

"If you'd stop interrupting me I could explain it to you! It's not just another class because we seem to regularly have people trying to use the dark arts to hurt of kill us. Harry especially, but us as well. We both know the Dark Lord is back, that he's gathering Death Eaters and it's only a matter of time until we have to defend ourselves again."

"Ok, you've got a point there."

"And it's not just us, either. Last time he terrorized the entire country. For all we know he might get enough followers to come at Hogwarts with an army. We need to be able to defend ourselves, and we both know that class is a joke. If we're going to deal with garden gnomes it might help, but against dark wizards? No."

"Yeah, you're right there. Nothing there is going to help us if Lucius Malfoy or his friends come calling."

"And since they will come calling, we need to be ready. That class isn't teaching us to be, so I think we need to take matters into our own hands."

"What exactly does that mean?"

"We need to learn to defend ourselves. I think what we need to do is gather up people who we think we can count on, people who we trust, people with potential, people who can handle themselves in a fight and learn for when we really do have dark wizards coming at us."

"That all sound great, Hermione, but you really think anyone will sign up for that? I mean, you're real smart and all, but I'm not exactly seeing people wanting to spend their free time in an extra class you teach."

"Yes, I realize that. The person who has to run this is Harry. No one else can make it work."

"Oh, well that'd work, sure. Why didn't you say he was running this from the start?"

There's a bit too long of a pause before I get the answer. "You see, I haven't actually spoken to him about this yet."

"You don't see a problem there, Hermione? Something that might go wrong when everyone except Harry shows up to the first day of class?"

"Well of course we'll tell him. But you see, it'll be more effective if this comes from both of us. So if we're going to do this I need you on board, Ron."

"All right, sure. It sounds like a good idea and all. When you want to try and convince him?"

"Right lunch."

It's then that we're sitting down with the target for Hermione's little extra class or whatever the heck you'd call what she has planned. Right after the obligatory exchange of hi's Hermione starts in on Harry.

"Harry, listen, Ron and I were talking and we have an idea, something we need your help with."

"Sure, Hermione, what do you need?"

"Well, you see, when you consider the state of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class this year…"

"Hermione wants to start a defense against the dark arts club, and we need you to teach it." I cut Hermione off.

"You want what?" Harry asks. "Wait, we?"

"Well, it was Hermione's idea, but it's a good one, so I'm on board."

"Where is this coming from anyway?"

"Harry, do you really think the class that idiot woman is teaching will be of any use at all when we have to fight Death Eaters?" Hermione steps in.

"We shouldn't have to fight Death Eaters at all, Hermione."

"Maybe not, Harry, but it's going to happen anyway; we all know it. We need to be prepared. And not just us, other students in Hogwarts too."

"All right, I suppose that's true, but why do you need me to run it. It's your idea."

"Harry, be realistic. It doesn't matter how smart I am, no one is going to come to a class if I teach it. But they will if you teach it. It has to be you."

"Why do you think we need to teach other students? What do you think is going to happen, Hermione? Voldermort just show up one day and attack the school?"

"I think it's possible, yes. Not today, and not soon, but Harry, the year is just starting. For that matter we have two entire years here after this one. A lot can happen in that time."

"He won't attack here if I have anything to say about it."

"But Harry, don't you see? We don't get a say in that; none of us does, not even you. I know he fixates on you but I don't see how we could prevent his coming here; not for sure." Harry opens his mouth, probably to start in on that self sacrificing thing he does, but Hermione cuts him off before he can start.

"Harry, don't even try saying you can go find him first or you can lure him away or anything like that. You could die, Harry. And then what? He'd still come here; Hogwarts isn't exactly his favorite place you know. There's no way to be sure. The best bet is for all of us to learn as much as we can so we can take care of ourselves if the worst does happen."

Harry thinks about it for a long time. "I'm not saying yes, Hermione. But if did, what exactly are you planning?"

"You wouldn't need to do a thing, Harry, I'd set everything up. There's a Hogsmeade weekend coming up, we'll all meet there after lunch."

"A Hogsmeade weekend? I didn't realize…. I really should ask Cho to do something then."

"And then in the middle of your date do this. Real romantic, mate." I comment, earning a glare from Hermione.

"I'm sure she'll understand, Ronald. This is important, it could save her life one day. And yes, she is one of the students I would want to join. Relationships aside she's a very bright and talented witch."

"Ron might be right about Cho, Hermione…" Harry agrees with me.

"Harry, if I talk to Cho for you, will you do this?"

"I guess then… I don't know. Maybe. I guess I can see if anyone actually shows up. That's all I'll agree to for now, Hermione."

"That's plenty, Harry. Thanks."

**Author's Notes:**

As always, thanks to that-fan for his help with editing. As always, reviews are extremely welcome, so if you read and have something to say, please leave me one.


	5. Questions and Answers

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter and am making no money from this.

**Pansy**

Potions class is the usual thing today. Take Wesley's seat, bother Granger just by being here. You know, the usual. Until the end of class that is.

Professor Snape is handing back work we did on these big essays, at least two feet of parchment. They're a big part of our grade this term, so a bad thing to fail. I see Granger got an O (of course) and I got an E. It's all about what you'd expect until I hear a gasp from over with the Slytherins. I look over and see Tracey Sheffield staring at her essay; specifically at the giant T on the top . A troll; the lowest mark there is. I've never actually seen one given.

"Yes, I was just as shocked as you are, Miss Sheffield. A very disappointing effort." Professor Snape looks at her.

"But I did try, professor! This was good work."

"You have no idea how it disappoints me that you think so."

"But this will destroy my grades. My parents will kill me. Is there anything I can do to make it up? Please, professor?"

Now I know Professor Snape loves to toy with students, to watch them suffer, but I've never seen him do it to a Slytherin before today. The man's treating Tracey as if she was a Gryffindor though, making a show of taking his time and thinking about her plea.

"Very well, Miss Sheffield. You will write for a dissertation on potions which can mimic the effects of the Imperius curse, potential side effects, counter potions, as well as the viability of real work usage and history of all things involved in this topic."

The Imperius curse? Does that mean this is the chick that supposedly used it on Granger? The old man set this up as payback since he supposedly couldn't punish her himself?

"Um, how long do I have to write this, professor? And how long should it be?"

"You will write for me not less than six feet and no more than ten on this topic, and I think a week should be sufficient to do a passable job of it." Oh Merlin, six feet? Professor Snape's known for long assignments, but nothing like that. That's practically a short book he's requiring.

Tracey's even more shocked than I am. Well, I guess that makes sense. It's not my ass that has to write that monstrosity after all.

"Oh, and Miss Sheffield?" Professor Snape makes sure he has her attention still. "Do try not to let this sort of thing again. It could result in your expulsion from school for academic reasons. A mistake like that on your part would be… unforgivable."

**Hermione**

I promised Harry I'd talk to Cho about the meeting for the defense against the dark arts club we're having at the next Hogsmeade weekend. I don't really want to, but I could tell Harry was looking for an excuse to say no, and once he heard about the weekend out he was slipping into Date Mode. The only way to salvage things was to be the one to break the news to Cho that their date will be interrupted.

A part of me is a bit well… I don't want to say upset, because I'm really not. I guess it's more that I think Harry really needs to learn to talk to Cho. If they're going to be serious they need to learn to actually communicate. Relationships are more than just flying around on brooms.

But it's Harry, it's one of my best friends and it's his first relationship so I'll give him a pass. Well, this time at least. In the future we'll see. Actually, who am I kidding? Harry grew up in an abusive household, it's only natural he should be like this. Unsure of himself, unsure of relationships and why others would see value in him. Expecting that to change any time soon is just foolish of me. Cho's got her work cut out for her on that count.

I find her in the library, doing work of another kind: school work. She hasn't noticed me yet, so I decide to take a suggestion from Ginny. Well, really half of one. She said I should check out some girls to see if I really do um, react to them. She said not to pick Cho, but, well, she's right here and I do hear guys talking about her. Everyone says she's one of the most attractive girls in school, so it stands to reason that if I'm attracted to girls, I should be attracted to her.

Looking at Cho, really looking at her, I can see why so many guys talk about her. She's got exotic Asian features, a really pretty face and long, sleek black hair down to her butt. She's a year older than me and I can see she's filled out a lot more than me, especially in her chest. School robes aren't exactly form fitting, but I can see through them she's really filling that blouse well.

She's sitting down at a table, so I can't see more, but thinking back when I've seen her walking around the castle the rest is nice too. Strong, athletic, it's a real shame she isn't the sort to push the boundaries of dress codes.

Ok, gotta stop myself there. I think rather than get lost in fantasies of Cho in various outfits I better stop before someone notices. It's pretty safe to say that Pansy Parkinson isn't the only girl I'm attracted too. Thank god; if it was just here that'd be a pretty miserable future.

All right, that little experiment's over; I need to relax, get control of myself and actually talk to this girl. There's only one way to make that happen, so I walk over to her table, standing across from her. "Um, excuse me, Cho? Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure. It's Granger, right? One of Harry's friends?" She looks up from her book. She isn't smiling, but it'll do.

"Hermione, please."

"All right, Hermione. So, what's on your mind? Come to meet Harry's new girlfriend?"

Ah, she thinks I'm here to take the measure of her, see if she's good enough to be with Harry or some such? I have heard of such things before; I suppose it is the logical assumption for her to make. "Actually, no, this isn't a social call; I'm here for another reason."

"And what reason is that?"

"Well there's a Hogsmeade weekend coming up, and I'm sure Harry will ask you to go with him, but there's a meeting we've set up during the outing."

"A meeting? Just what sort of meeting?" I'm doing a bad job here I think; Cho looks more suspicious than ever.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts class this year is a joke, I'm sure you've noticed. It's not the sort of thing we can do without either. So we're putting together a defense against the dark arts group to learn what we need."

"Who's we?"

"Well, Ron and I talked Harry into running it. He is the obvious choice, after all."

"And who exactly will be at this meeting?"

"Well myself, Harry, Ron, I'd very much like you to be there as well. Girlfriend status aside, you're a bright and talented girl; exactly the sort of person we want there. We're still looking at other people for this. I'm sure we'll wrangle several Gryffindors. If you know of any suitable Ravenclaws that would be excellent as well."

"So this isn't some private thing?"

I stop short. Wait, is she thinking something improper was going to go on? "What? No, of course not. What were you thinking? Harry and I?..."

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm wondering. You're always with him, you're setting up some sort of meeting when you said he plans to be on a date with me. Think about it, Granger?"

"No, Cho, it's nothing like that, I assure you. I'm not interested in Harry like that, I never have been and I can honestly say I never will be. He's my friend, maybe something like a brother, but we aren't a couple." If I was interested in someone in this couple it wouldn't be Harry. I think telling Cho that would not help my case, however

"And why are you here telling me all this rather than Harry?"

"The only way we could get Harry agree to teaching this class was for me to promise to ask you rather than him."

"Why?"

"He believed you would react rather badly to hearing he had a prior commitment during a date. Not that he's asked you out for the weekend yet, but I imagine he will. In any case, I think he was worried you be mad at him, so this way your anger is directed at me."

"All those times he's supposedly fought dark wizards and he's scared of upsetting me?" Cho shakes her head.

"You have to understand, Cho, Harry grew up in a very difficult environment. He was raised by Muggles who were massively biased against magic and in fact kept the circumstances of his parents' death from him. It was abusive by virtually any definition of the word, mentally, emotionally, maybe even physically. The point is, for Harry issues of life and death come far easier than matters of affection; he has years of experience telling him that he is not deserving of any.

"That sounds truly bizarre."

"A lot about Harry is. I'm sure you've heard a lot of stories."

"Yes, there's quite a few around the castle. Especially about what happened at the end of last year."

She's right about that. Most of the rumors are rather nasty too. "I know, I've heard them too."

"Care to comment on them?"

"Most are false, absurd really."

"So what's the truth then?"

"You heard what Professor Dumbledore said at the end of last year, didn't you?"

"Yes, I was there; I heard. I've also read the _Prophet_."

"You can't believe everything you read there, Cho."

"And why not? It's the paper of record for wizarding England."

"Because the government controls the paper. Fudge is afraid of Harry and afraid of Dumbledore; he's doing everything he can to discredit them. He even sent that Umbridge woman here to work against them."

"You're supposed to be a smart girl; you must know how that sounds."

"Yes, I know it sounds like an insane conspiracy theory. But think about it, why else would that woman be here? What possible need could there be for all these educational decrees all of a sudden?"

"You think it's all to target Harry and Dumbledore. I don't see the point.'

"Because Fudge has basically bet his career on Voldermort being gone. After all he's said and done, if Voldermort really is back then Fudge has no credibility and has wasted all this time. He'll be through."

"So what, he denied so long and hard now he's committed?"

"Exactly. And the ones saying Voldermort is back are Harry and Dumbledore. So Fudge is going after them to silence them."

"Your whole conspiracy theory here needs You-Know-Who to be back to even have a chance of being true." Cho points out.

"He is back."

"And what proof do you have?"

"Well, Harry said so."

"That's it?"

"Dumbledore believes him."

"That's not proof, that's still based on Harry's word."

"You don't believe him? I thought you were together."

"He's my boyfriend, not my husband. We went out once and yes, we had a very nice time. But that doesn't mean I automatically take his word. And before I believe him on this I want to hear it from him directly. And not just what Professor Dumbledore told everyone; I want to hear it all."

"Well obviously I can't help you there."

"Yes, I know; I plan to speak with Harry about it." We all knew Harry and Cho would have that talk sooner or later. I hope Harry's ready; Cho's not going to let him skimp on answers.

"But what about the defense against the dark arts group?"

"I don't really have a choice, do I? What alternative is there, let Harry leave in the middle of a date and wait around for him to get back?"

"I know, I'm sorry about that, Cho."

"But not sorry enough that you didn't do it."

"Voldermort is back, I really believe that. We have to be able to defend ourselves, and that class isn't going to cut it."

"Why? Why do we need to defend ourselves? We're schoolgirls, not soldiers."

"Voldermort has a sort of obsession concerning Harry. I have no idea why, but he fixates on him; he's obsessed with killing Harry. If you're going to be together you need to be ready, because sooner or later you'll be targeted as a means of getting to Harry."

"Lovely."

"Well I'm sorry to be the one to break this to you, but Harry has baggage and dating him won't always be easy. But you must know that; you're observant, you've seen how he always finds a way to get into trouble."

"That is true."

"So you'll be there?"

"Yes, I'll be there."

"And is there any way you could talk a few other Ravenclaws into being there?"

"I'll think about it." I can see it's the best I'm going to get. Cho and I aren't friends here, but I got what I was after so I'll take it.

**Cho**

I'd planned to talk to Harry about what happened at the end of last year next time we had time alone together, probably on our next date. It's not a nice date topic, but depending on his answers there might not be any reason to date anymore at all.

But now Hermione Granger has decided to have some meeting interrupt our next date; a date I haven't even been asked out on yet. So nice of her to plan like that. She knew it'd be an intrusion, but she did it anyway. And Harry… well on the one hand it's nice he knew I wouldn't like it, but he agreed anyway. And then he doesn't even have the nerve to be the one to tell me, he sends Granger to do it.

Well considering that date will be cut in half by a meeting I'm not going to waste the rest of it on this story. I'm going to get answers now, and if they aren't good, well, I'll skip the date, the meeting, all of it.

Gryffindor's Quidditch team is scheduled to practice now, so finding Harry is a simple matter of waiting around. I wait by the locker rooms, rather than out on the pitch. I like watching Quidditch, even practice, but a happy mood isn't what I'm looking for now. Harry's already cutting our next date in half before he even asks me, I'm not going to be happy about it, and I don't think being happy is the best way to get answers out of him.

It takes a while for their practice to end, but I'm a patient girl. The Gryffindor players look surprised to see me, especially Harry.

"Cho, hi. What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you. Hurry up and get changed." I give Harry a smile, trying to be disarming. It seems to work because he hurries off with a grin on his face.

In almost no time at all Harry comes out of the locker room. "Hi. So, what's up, Cho?"

"Come with me." I head off into the castle, ducking into a vacant room. It looks like it must have been a classroom once, but it hasn't been that for years and years; it's a dusty storage room now, full of extra furniture, desks and chairs mostly. Not that it really matters. It has room for both of us, it's free of other people and it has a door that I close once Harry's inside.

"Harry, I need to know what happened at the end of last year. "

"What? The end of last year/" Right now?"

"I was planning to wait until we went on another date to ask, actually. I know it's not really a date sort of topic, but I need to know. There's so many rumors floating around, I need to hear what happened from you. But then Hermione Granger talks to me out of the blue about how you agreed to some defense against the dark arts club in the middle of our next date. Which you haven't even asked me out on yet."

"Um, sorry I didn't ask you out again yet?" Harry tries guessing what the right thing to say here is.

"That's fine, nothing says you had to ask me out again right away. Or even at all if you don't want to. What's less fine is that you're canceling part of our next date before you even asked me."

"Uh, sorry about that, Cho."

"And another thing, why are you sending Hermione Granger to talk to me about our romantic life?"

"Well, I wasn't sure about that club, I knew you'd be upset and all, but she offered to be the one to talk to you…"

"Oh, so you can't even come talk to me now?"

"Well you are kind of scary now how you're almost yelling and all..."

"You don't think I have cause to yell? Maybe I'm being hysterical over nothing? People say I'm like that about Cedric after all, so why not here too?"

"I never said that Cho!"

Ok, I have to tone it down here or I might lose him. I've got to get back to the good girlfriend here. "It's a good thing you didn't, otherwise I'd really be mad. But we're getting off track here. What I really want is to know what happened at the end of last year; I really need to hear all of it, Harry."

"Um, sure thing, Cho. Are you really sure though? It isn't the easiest topic for me, and might not be for you either."

He has a point there; this won't be easy. I've got him to agree to tell me, now I need to calm down and try to keep my cool for this part. "I'm sure, Harry. I know it'll be hard for both of us, but I need this if I'm going to get past it."

It takes him a minute to overcome his reluctance, but Harry starts telling me the story. He starts with the final task, the giant hedge maze. The story starts out like I'd expect, some obstacles he overcame like you'd expect, how he heard Fleur scream but didn't see her, and then comes the first part of the story I didn't know.

"I found Krum attacking Cedric. I was pretty surprised, Krum didn't seem like the sort to do that, and after watching him for a second I figured he was cursed; the Imperius or something. He just looked and acted all wrong, so I helped out Cedric. We managed to stun Krum and then sent up the distress signal. I guess they came to get him, but we didn't stick around to find out."

"After that was a few more things, um, a sphinx and a giant spider, nothing too terrible, not when there were two of us. Then it was just the cup. We argued back and forth a bit over who should be the one to take it. In the end we agreed to both take it together. It sounded good at the time. I mean, neither of us could have made it alone, that spider had hurt my leg and I needed help there, and Krum probably would have gotten Cedric without me."

"We did a little countdown and then both took hold of it, but instead of the tournament ending we were, um, teleported of whatever you call it, to this old cemetery. The cup was really a Portkey."

"We're in this creepy old cemetery and my scar starts to really hurt. An awful lot."

"Is there some significance to your scar hurting?" I ask.

"It's tied to Voldermort somehow. It hurts when he's close. I'm not exactly sure how it works. It hurts other times too, but this time it was because he was close. See, we weren't alone in that grave yard. We see this figure in a black cloak carrying something. We figured it was an old lady carrying a baby, but the thing we figured was the baby spoke. 'Kill the spare.' That was the order."

"Kill the spare?" The spare what?

"The whole thing was a trap to get me there. Cedric being there was an accident. Voldermort wanted one person, me. Instead he got me and a spare person."

"So Voldermort was the baby?"

"He wasn't a baby, he was this twisted little abomination thing, just wrapped in a cloth so we thought it was a baby in the dark. But no, it absolutely was him; I know that voice."

"And the old lady?"

"Wormtail. One of Voldermort's servants. He killed Cedric."

"How… how did it happen?" I knew this part would be hard. I've got to stay strong and get through this.

"The killing curse. No warning or chance for Cedric to do anything, Voldermort just ordered him killed and Wormtail did it without hesitation."

"So he didn't suffer?" Stupid question, but everyone asks it when someone dies.

"No, he didn't suffer. There wasn't time for him to fight back or anything either. It just all seemed so weird, we didn't know if it was part of the third task still or what. Just one minute he's looking around trying to make sense of it and then the next he's on the ground looking surprised; like he didn't really think it was all real."

"After that they tied me a tombstone and started this weird ritual thing. Wormtail put some ingredients into a cauldron, but me and put some of my blood into it and then finally Voldermort went in. The whole thing was all to bring Voldermort back. For real I mean, not just some little twisted half dead thing. Voldermort came out of that cauldron, whole, alive, all that."

"He summoned a bunch of his top Death Eaters and after yelling at them for a while decided he wanted to duel me."

"Duel you? A fourth year against the Dark Lord?"

"Yeah." Harry nods. "Well, he called it a duel, but it was just an execution; I guess he wanted to make a show of it, make up for the fact he didn't kill me as a baby or something. It went weird though. As soon as we cast spells our wands were linked by this energy. People told me it was because our wants both had cores from the same phoenix." Ah, Priori Incantatem; I've heard of it before, apparently Harry doesn't know the term though.

"Things really got weird then. I saw these, well, ghosts. I saw my parents. In all the confusion I was able to run and grab the cup and Cedric's body and wound up back at the castle where, well, everyone saw us."

"Professor Moody took me back up to the castle, but it turned out he was a Death Eater who'd been using Polyjuice potion. He was the one that got my name into the Goblet of Fire, he took out Fleur in the maze, he cursed Krum to try and take out Cedric. He was going to kill me but Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape got there in time to save me."

"Were they able to interrogate him or did he um, not survive?"

"They used Veritaserum on him. But when Fudge went to talk to him he had a Dementor with him for security and the thing killed him, so no Ministry officials ever heard anything out of him, and Fudge didn't believe what Professor Dumbledore and I had to say."

So that's the story. Hearing about how Cedric died I want to cry, but I need to think this through. Harry seemed sincere and it really was hard for him to tell me this, but I need to see if it really adds up. No witnesses is convenient, so is the fake Moody being dead, but bringing a Dementor as a guard is so stupid because, well, that exact thing can happen.

But is there any evidence left? Wait, the cup! If it's a portkey then it should be easy to test it and find out. If it led to a graveyard then it would back up Harry's story. Why wasn't it tested then? If it didn't lead where Harry said the Ministry could have easily said so and had real proof to discredit Harry.

It makes no sense, it was very obviously a portkey, it's only logical to use it. The destination is a crime scene, after all. regardless of who killed Cedric, that portkey leads to where he died. But for all the articles in the _Prophet_ and all the talk from the Ministry I've never heard a word about this part.

Their silence would seem to back Harry. Also it sounded like when the fake Moody was interrogated there was more than just Harry and Professor Dumbledore there; he said Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape were there too. That tends to weaken Marietta's theory that Professor Dumbledore might be going senile and backing Harry out of delusions.

And Cedric… I remember seeing him when he reappeared, well, seeing his… corpse. He did look surprised, like Harry said. He looked, well, like you'd figure after going through the third task, dirty and roughed up some, but nothing bad enough to have killed him. I'm no expert on dark magic (though Granger apparently means to change that) but I don't know of any way to kill someone so fast and not leave a mark except for the killing curse. But I suppose Harry might have been the one to cast that.

I don't know if he can cast the killing curse or not. I saw Professor Moody cast it last year in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, and it certainly is a simple enough spell, easy incantation and almost any wand motion will work, so in theory sure, a fourth year could cast it, but would Harry really do that?

How would that all work, anyway? It seems like Professor Moody probably really was a Death Eater in disguise, so if Harry really was behind it all he'd have somehow teamed up with the Death Eater to get into the tournament, been in on a plan to win the cup and one or the other of them had killed Cedric? Why kill him, if Fleur and Krum were left alive? Was it all to get to me, like the most ridiculous rumors going around say? A giant glory and girl grab?

It's pretty improbable sounding. Granted Harry's story isn't exactly easy to believe either, but it at least has a few witnesses who are backing him (or in the cases of Professor McGonagall and Snape at least not contradicting.)

"Um, Cho? Are you going to say anything?"

"Hmm, sorry, what?"

"You've kind of been just sitting there for a long time now."

"Oh, sorry. It's just a lot to hear and deal with all at once." I give Harry an innocent smile. It's true, it is a lot to hear and process all at once. I don't think Harry's realized this is an interview though. It's good to have a pretty smile.

"Are you ok then?"

"I think so. It's really true then? I mean about You-Know-Who being back?"

"Yes, he really is back." He sounds so sure of himself here; I want to believe him. I don't know about You-Know-Who being back. If he is, why has no one heard from him in all the months since his return? But I suppose that doesn't matter; not for what I'm after here.

The parts of the story that worried me, the parts where Harry might be a villain of some sort of responsible for what happened at the end of last year, just aren't true. He didn't set things into motion and he didn't actually do anything that was over the line. Whether it was the Dark Lord, some leftover Death Eater or some insane person working with the fake Moody, it wasn't Harry and that's what I wanted to know.

"So now that all that's over, can we go to Hogsmeade together?" Harry asks me, looking hopeful.

"Yes, it does." I smile at him. "But this meeting interrupting our date had better be a onetime thing. And next time, don't send Granger to try and handle me; just talk to me yourself."

"Sure, whatever you say, Cho."

**Author's Notes:**

No reviews for last chapter? That's pretty disappointing. Harry Potter's a bigger fandom and I'm used to writing for, I figured I'd get more, not less response than my Hunger Games stuff.

Like always, thanks to that-fan for help with edits and helping me focus in on a direction to take Cho's personality in this story. Story won't work without her carrying a big part of it, and in the books she isn't developed nearly enough for what I have in mind.

Anyone reading this who has a response to this chapter or any others, good or bad, please do leave a review. I enjoy writing, but I like getting feedback too, hearing what people think and responding to that, whether it's an idea or two I wind up using, or the start of a discussion, it's all things I enjoy, so please, do review.


	6. It's What's on the Inside That Matters

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter and am making no money from this.

**Pansy**

I'm on my way to the Veritaserum session with Granger now. I'm pretty sure I know what she'll say; it's pretty obvious, really. There's no way she kissed me of her own free will, and the Imperius curse sounds like a crap explanation, but she sold the teachers on it obviously. Snape's busting Tracey Sheffield's ass threatening to flunk her out and McGonagall went after her too, in her own charming little way.

It seems McGonagall is writing a book, a textbook I think, and she has years of notes she needs compiled all in one place, so she 'volunteered' Tracey to copy them all down in one place. Tracey got a stack of god knows how many parchments, scraps of paper and scribbled notes that seemed to be in no order at all. It's her job to put them in order, organize them and then copy them. Fun.

So I expect Granger to name her. It's not like Granger's a great liar; I could just talk to her and find out, no Veritaserum needed, but once she's taken it I can ask her anything I want. That's just too much fun to pass up.

Granger's been a lot more fun to play with than I expected this year; more than I can ever remember in fact. It's not just that I've managed to get a few unexpected make-out sessions out of her either. Not that that hurts, mind you. The girl can kiss, gotta give her that. There's an anger in that girl, just under the surface, but I've seen it bubble to the surface now and then. I don't know what that's all about, but I'm having fun poking at it. If I'm really lucky I may get Granger to finally lose it and then the real show begins. Who knows what sort of crap Granger could do if that wound way too tight Mudblood stops holding herself back.

I'm a few minutes early to the meeting, but Granger's already here waiting for me. "Let's get this over with."

"Awe, is that any way to greet your girlfriend?" I smirk at her.

"I'm not your girlfriend, Parkinson."

"That hurts, Granger."

"Oh spare me."

"If you aren't my girlfriend, why were you making out with me the way you were?"

"You know why. I was forced into it the first time, and I'm about to prove it to you."

"And the second time?"

Granger stops short, no quick answer for that one. "…We're not girlfriends, Parkinson. Now can we please just do this?" I shrug and go inside. "But if you want the school to think we're girlfriends I'd be glad to tell every Slytherin I come across." Ah, now there's the Granger I wanted to see; the one that fights back.

"You really think they'd believe that? I can totally get a hotter girl; Chang or someone like that maybe."

"Sorry, she's taken."

"Seriously? The widow in mourning's hooking up with someone new?"

"That's right. She's with Harry now."

"So the rumors are true? Go figure. I didn't think those two would have the balls to get together knowing what everyone's saying. Draco will love hearing about that."

"Must you people mock and destroy everything you see?"

"You people? Wow, nice stereotypes and all that crap, Granger. But as for the rest, come on, if they can't stand up to Draco fucking Malfoy you really think they can stand up to the real pressures of life?"

"I thought you and Malfoy are together? It sounds like you're talking him down though."

"There a question in there or you just like hearing yourself talk, Granger?"

"Why?"

"Why am I talking shit about Draco? None of your business."

"I wouldn't talk badly about someone I was with."

"Oh, so if you decided to go tell the castle we were together you'd sing my praises?"

"Well, yes, I would try to. Certainly you have your virtues, things to recommend you… You are rather more intelligent than I initially thought, for instance. As puberty has progressed you've become rather attractive, outgrowing a bit of an awkward phase for instance." Is that her nice way of saying my nose doesn't look as fucked up as it used to? Because god knows it did, stupid pug looking piece of shit. Can't tell you how glad I am that it's not as bad as it used to be.

"Well isn't that just so nice of you."

"I'll admit I might not have as much experience as many others my age, but I thought that's just how it worked in relationships. It isn't for you?"

"You're right Granger, there's a lot you don't know about relationships."

She looks almost disappointed. What, did she think we were having a moment here or something? As if. "So are we going to do this or not?"

I sit down at a table and put the vial of Veritaserum in front of me. "Here's your answer, Granger."

"If you don't mind I'd like to test it. You can't be too careful about taking unknown potions from less than upstanding women, after all."

I laugh; I can't help it. Granger's right, only an idiot would take a potion they don't know. She even managed to insult me while saying it. "Go ahead, just don't waste too much of it in the process."

Granger takes out a bunch of vials and potion making supplies from her robes. She came prepared, obviously, bringing half her home chemistry set from the looks of it. She runs her tests, taking a few minutes before looking up at me. "All right, I'm satisfied. If it's all the same with you, I brought my own goblet of water. If you'd care to add the prescribed three drops we can begin."

Well, down to business then. Granger puts a small goblet in front of me and takes the top off. Looks like water inside; not that it matters, there isn't a potion known to man that could counteract Veritaserum. I add three drops of the stuff and push the goblet back to Granger. "Bottoms up."

Rather than drink, she reaches into her robes again and pulls out a small piece of paper, handing it to me. "I took the liberty of writing questions that I feel will get to the facts most quickly. All you need to do is read them off and we can be done with this."

I don't say anything, instead waiting for Granger to drink the potion, which after a minute she does. I wait a beat for the potion to take effect before starting. "Did you really expect me to interrogate you from a card?"

"No." comes her simple answer.

"Then why give me the card at all?"

"It would have shown me that maybe I can trust you. At least some."

On second thought, maybe I can play my own game here too. She thinks she knows what I'll do? Fine. I open the card and start reading from it. "Please describe in your own words the events leading up to your first kiss with Pansy Parkinson."

"I was on my prefect patrol when I came across a Slytherin girl if my year, Tracey Sheffield. I chastised her for being out of bounds and the incident seemed to be resolved peacefully but when I turned to leave she cursed me using the Imperius curse. I was ordered that the next time I saw Pansy Parkinson and argued with her at the conclusion of said argument I should attempt to seduce her rather than walk away." she tells her story in a monotone, potion induced voice.

Performances are best done with an audience, and my predatory ones are no different. It's just coincidence I ran into Granger that night. Tracey must have expected I'd go after her in public, probably the Great Hall. Us making out and then going at it, having sex or however close we'd get before teachers stopped us, yeah, no doubt that would have destroyed my reputation. more than that; it would have ruined me, more than that bitch realized I'm sure. Well, she'll get hers' I'll make sure of it.

"I encountered Pansy Parkinson on my prefect rounds, and as is the norm for us we argued with increasing intensity. I think she was trying to taunt me into physically attacking her, likely in some sort of scheme to have me stripped of my prefect badge, but I decided to walk away instead. However, rather than do that the curse was triggered and I kissed her."

Yeah, yeah, that's the boring part of the story. Well, I've got the facts Granger agreed to give. Thing is, the potion's still in effect for a bit longer. It'd be a shame to waste it…. "So Granger, did you like the kiss?"

"Yes. I thought it was the effects of the curse making it feel pleasant, but when we kissed again there was no doubt; kissing you is extremely pleasurable."

I can't help but grin. I know I'm good, but hearing a truth serum induced endorsement is still good for the ego. "I'm amazing, I know. I'm sure you've been busy playing with yourself at night fantasizing about that and where it could lead to."

"Yes." Damn I love this potion; she's compelled to answer even my bullshit throwaway lines like that.

"Ah so I fill all your fantasies, do I?"

"I also find Cho Chang quite attractive, even if she is taken."

All right, I suppose I can't blame her there; Chang is one fine piece of ass. "Hermione Granger playing with herself, now there's an image that doesn't fit with your perfect little reputation. You're Gryffindor's golden girl after all, their princess, and all the teachers' favorite. Why, you've probably never broken a rule in your life, have you?"

"Yes, I have."

"Oh yeah? What rules have you broken? And being late to class or out after hours or other small time garbage like that doesn't count."

"Second year I brewed Polyjuice potion so Harry Ron and I could sneak into the Slytherin common room. Third year I assaulted Draco Malfoy and then at the end of the year Harry and I used my time tuner to help Sirius Black and Buckbeak the hippogriff escape custody and execution."

What? What the fuck? I can't have heard that right. "Sirius Black? As in, the one who escaped from Azkaban, the murderer? That Sirius Black?"

"He's innocent, but yes, that is he."

What the hell is Granger into? Helping convicted murderers escape? "Care to explain what the hell you're talking about with Sirius Black and escaping?"

And that's exactly what she does; she tells the whole story of her and Potter illegally using a time tuner at Dumbledore's suggestion (Weasley was so useless he was already in the hospital wing). It's an absurd story, sounding like made up crap no one would ever believe. A pair of third years heroically freeing a convicted prisoners who's conveniently been framed, they find the real culprit, free their animal friend and humiliate the inept minister in the process. But Granger is still under the effect of the Veritaserum, so every ridiculous word is true.

All right, I need to be serious here. Embarrassing the girl is all fine and good, but almost any question can do that; I need to actually ask the right thing now. "When you told me about reporting all this, you said Professor Umbridge didn't believe you. You even said you wanted to kill her I think. Just how serious were you?"

"I was serious. Mores about anger and frustration than actual homicidal intent."

"Why? Just because she didn't believe you?"

"No. If she reached the conclusion logically I would be unhappy, but not angered to this degree. It's because she treated me as less than a person, because she decided in advance what to believe. It's because she's here to break us, all in support of a pathetic, corrupt government that's dedicated to maintaining an outdated order built on hate and exploitation of everyone who isn't part of a small subset of the wizarding world."

"You hate Fudge that much? Why?"

"It isn't merely Cornelius Fudge; he's simply the most visible one. My issue is not with him personally but at the system the ministry maintains. So many species are pushed to the fringes such as centaurs, tolerated but treated as less than equals; Veela who seem to only have a place because of sex appeal, and then there are races like house elves who are slaves. None of this has existed in the Muggle world for centuries, yet here it is not only done, it is not even questioned. To say nothing of the corruption that allows Voldermort to operate unchallenged."

"So what, you want to overthrow the government and change the world?"

"The wizarding portion I feel needs to change, yes, though I have no need to do it personally. After the end of last year I hoped it might change on its own because of Voldermort's return, but that obviously has not happened. Instead events are moving in the other direction…." Granger trails off. Looks like that's it for the potion. She just stares at me for a while. I guess she doesn't know what to say; I can't say that I blame her.

"Quite a situation we've got here, isn't it?" If she won't start, I will.

"What are you going to do?"

"Don't you mean to ask if I'm going to throw you, Potter, Weasley and the old man into Azkaban? Because that's exactly what could happen if I want it to."

Granger just nods slowly. She looks like she's at her execution. This is it; I've beat her. My arch nemesis and all that other cliché crap, and it's over; I won, and we both know it. It should be a great moment, but it just feels disappointing; like it's a waste. Granger's done enough to piss the government off, but she could still do so much more. That and as weird as it sounds, she reminds me of myself in some ways.

"The answer is no, I'm not going to burn you." If I could burn the rest I might, but there's no way to separate Granger from the rest when it comes to a trial, and I'm not willing to sacrifice her to get the rest.

"Why?"

"Because you're too interesting, Granger. The whole know-it-all reputation is all crap. Underneath is an angry girl willing to get her hands dirty. I had no idea, and I have to say, I'm impressed. I don't give a shit about the rest, but I want to see where you go, so it looks like you're all safe."

"You want to see where I go with it? What does that even mean?"

"It means I don't think you're going to sit on your ass; not forever at least. I think you're the sort who can't contain their anger or resentment or whatever the hell you want to call it forever, and I want to see what happens when you actually act on it."

"You won't turn me in because you want to see what I do? Do you even care that if something did happen to the government or wizarding society at large it might upset your life or your parents life in a negative way?"

Hmm, interesting question. It certainly might fuck with my parents, but, well too damned bad for them. "I'm not my parents, Granger. If you can screw up their lives like that then they get what they deserve."

"You sound like you don't care about your parents."

"Haven't I told you my parents are off limits?"

"I'm just trying to talk, Parkinson. I can't understand you; sometimes you are so self contradictory; you have moments of civility and conversation and then you're insulting me again and all the barriers you put up return."

"You know, maybe if you were a bit less nosy you'd have more friends, Granger."

"Fine." she gets up and just stands there, like she's waiting for something.

"What? Why are you just standing there?"

"I may not like you, Parkinson, but like you made me say under the influence of that damndable potion, I do like kissing you. And it seems to have become the tradition for how we part ways in this classroom."

I can't help but laugh again. This girl should take Veritaserum more often; she's almost agreeable on days it happens. I get to my feet, taking my time, making a show of it. "You do say the most romantic things, Granger."

I'm expecting some smart ass response, but instead she reaches out and grabs the front of my blouse, pulling me in to a kiss. Oh yeah, defiantly agreeable.

**Hermione**

The first Quidditch game of the season is today, Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Personally I could care less about the sport, but two of my best friends are playing, so I'll watch to support them.

A part of me expected to be dragged out of bed by a bunch of stern looking wizards claiming to be from the Ministry. I admitted to enough crimes that I should have a cell waiting for me.

But I woke up after that night and everything was normal. I went to breakfast and no Ministry officials (other than the foul toad woman) were waiting for me. As the day went on it became obvious that Parkinson really was keeping her word; she hadn't told anyone.

If she had it would be terrible; my life would be over in most sense of the word, so I'm certainly glad Parkinson kept her mouth shut. But it leaves me with a great many questions. It seems nothing will go easy this year.

Does Parkinson really not care that I would like to see significant changes to the wizarding world? She seemed to find the ideaamusing, and a bit impressive (which seemed to surprise her). But why? She benefits greatly from the current government and social order. From what I understand her family commands vast wealth and political influence that is among the greatest in the nation. I can't see the logic in her wanting to upset the proverbial apple cart. But she seems to not care about that at all.

Is she the sort who resents growing up with wealth and privilege? I've certainly never seen any indications of that before. Could it be that somehow she doesn't benefit from the system as much as it seems? Unlikely, but possible, I suppose. Or maybe she's an anarchist who simply likes seeing the chaos that arises from the collapse of governments and societies? Again, unlikely in the extreme I feel.

It's extremely difficult to figure out, because clues are so infrequent. The hard edged abusive girl I've known for four years is there, of course, but this year I've also seen glimpses of something else. Parkinson has moments where she seems to forget herself and almost lapses into something akin to talking to a friend.

Those unguarded moments are when I hear things like her apparently lack of respect with Malfoy. It's that same unguarded Parkinson that likes my anti Ministry ideas, and it's that same unguarded Parkinson that's less hostile almost to the point of friendliness with me. Well, until she catches herself at least; she slams the door shut as soon as she realizes what she's doing.

It does raise an interesting question, though. When we kiss, which Pansy Parkinson is kissing me back?

"Hey, Hermione. Hermione? Earth to Hermione." Oh, that's right, the Quidditch game I'm at. I'm with Ginny, who I've apparently been ignoring for some time.

"Oh, I'm sorry. You were saying something?"

"Merlin, Hermione. Were you zoning out again? I swear, that's all you do the past few days."

"I'm sorry, Ginny. I just have a lot on my mind."

"Lesbian stuff again?"

"That certainly is not how I would put it, Ginny."

"So yes, lesbian stuff again. You ever actually figure out if you are one or not even?"

"Actually, I took your advice and I tried looking at a girl that I've heard various guys say is attractive, and I think it's safe to say I had a reaction."

"Who'd you check out?"

"Cho Chang."

"Hermione, I specifically told you not to pick her."

"Relax, Ginny, no one saw. Besides, I had to talk to her anyway, so I simply did it then."

"Ok, I guess. But you know she's taken, right? You aren't going to try and steal Harry's girl are you?"

"If I did that would leave him looking for comfort, wouldn't it? I don't suppose you know who could help him with that, do you, Ginny?"

"Hey!"

"Oh, it looks like the game is starting. You really should try and be less distracted, Ginny."

"Hilarious."

I'm no connoisseur of Quidditch, but even I could tell the game was going badly for Gryffindor in short order. The Slytherin team was playing with their typical thuggish tactics, but this time they were paying off. The difference, I'm sad to say, was Ron. As Gryffindor keeper, it was his job to stop any shots on goal (there's technical names for all this, but frankly, I could never be bothered to learn them all.) Sadly, Ronald appears quite ill suited for his job; he hasn't saved a single thing.

All this is due, in no small part, to a loud song emanating from the Slytherin stands. It's short, but it does have the virtue of rhyming.

_Weasley cannot save a thing, he cannot block a single ring._

_That's why Slytherins all sing: Weasley is our king._

_Weasley was born in a bin, he always lets the Quaffle in._

_Weasley will make sure we win. Weasley is our king._

"Oh dear." I comment to myself.

"Yeah, it's really messing with Ron's head." Ginny agrees. "And oh look, it's your girlfriend running it."

"Hmm, what do you mean?" I look where Ginny is pointing and there I see Pansy Parkinson, with her back to the pitch, acting as conductor for the entire Slytherin section, all singing their little serpentine hearts out. Of course it's her; it just had to be her.

"Hermione, I take back what I said. Dump her and steal Cho, you have my blessing."

**Harry**

This game is a bloody disaster. It's Ron's first game and he still doesn't have his confidence. When he starts off well he can play a good game, but if he has a bad start he gets really flustered and well, he let in that early goal, and then the song started…. Ever since that happened Slytherin hasn't missed a single shot.

It's 130-20, Slytherin lead. Either I find the snitch in the next few minutes or we lose regardless of who catches the thing. I've been flying around, looking for the thing and keeping an eye on Malfoy who's doing the same, but so far no luck.

Finally I see it, a tiny bit of gold that catches the sun, right at the base of the Slytherin rings. I lean forward, pushing my broom forward hard. I spare a quick glance to the side, and sure enough, there's Malfoy, right along side; for once he saw the Snitch at the same time I did rather than just following me around.

We're in a hard dive, side by side, each with a hand outstretched, but for once, his broom isn't good enough. My Firebolt gives me the edge and it's my hand that closes over the Snitch while his hand scratches helplessly at the back of mine.

I want to let out a cheer, but rather than feeling victory it's a Bludger that hits me in the small of the back, knocking me to the ground. By the time I get to my feet the rest of the Gryffindor team has landed near me, with the Slytherin team just a little distance away.

"Are you ok, mate?" Ron asks me, running over.

"I'm fine. Besides, we won." I open my hand, revealing the Snitch still in my grasp.

"You should get on y our hands and knees and kiss the ground he walks on, Weasley." Malfoy starts, walking up to us. "He's the only thing that saved your miserable team, no matter how hard you tried to lose."

"You're just bitter you lost, Malfoy." I cut in.

"A shame that; But at least I can talk to my father for comfort."

"Shut up, Malfoy."

"Oh, I suppose you like to think of those rodents as your family? Weasels is it? Oh, no, Weasley, that's right. You should do them a favor, Potter. There's this wondrous invention you need to tell them about: birth control."

I see George next to me about to physically attack Malfoy; I have to hold him back while the rest of the team holds Fred back.

"Awe, I don't think they like that, Potter. But seriously, how hard a concept is it? Children cost money, and when you have none, why do you keep producing more and more litters of rodents? Granted the girl weasel is pretty fuckable, but the rest? They should have stopped at least four brats ago."

I'm not quite sure how it happened but George is running at Malfoy alongside me. I must have let go of him, but I really can't remember doing it. what I do remember is the feeling of my fist connecting with Malfoy's jaw. It felt good. George sunk his fist into Malfoy's stomach and I think both of us wanted to keep going, but unfortunately some spell from Madam Hooch knocked us both onto our butts.

"What is the meaning of this?" she demands. Uh oh, I think that's one of those questions there's no right answer to."Disgraceful, absolutely disgraceful. Behavior like that has no place on a Quidditch pitch. Both of you, get up to your head of house's office right now."

By the time George and I get to our feet and start heading for the castle some of the crowd has gotten to the scene, with Pansy Parkinson leading the charge. She rushes over to Malfoy's side (to comfort her boyfriend I guess) and promptly steps on his hand. Ouch; the girl was wearing heels too.

"Damn it, woman, watch where you're stepping." Malfoy roars.

"Oh, Draco, I'm sorry, I was just so worried. Are you all right?"

"Of course I'm all right." Malfoy tries putting on a brave face, but he doesn't look very all right to me; he's still doubled over in pain and his jaw is swelling. Oh, and he his hand is bleeding from Parkinson's heel now it looks like.

God, if I wasn't leaving before I would be now; the sight of that couple makes me thank god I got a girlfriend like Cho rather than an idiot like Parkinson.

We reach Professor McGonagall's office just ahead of her. "In." she coldly orders. "Just what were you two thinking?

"He provoked us, Professor." I answer.

"Well of course he did; he lost. Except now he has a victory, thanks to you two."

"But he insulted my family, and he made fun of Harry's not having a father." George offers.

"I don't care what he said; none of that justifies the shameful display you two put on. He could have insulted every relative you have, living or otherwise, none of it would excuse what you two did."

"Hem, hem." comes a little cough from behind us. I turn around and see Professor Umbridge standing in the still open doorway.

"Yes, Dolores? May I help you?" Professor McGonagall asks.

"I thought you might want some assistance in dealing with these students; added authority and all that."

"Well you thought wrong." Professor McGonagall turns her gaze back to us. "Now as I was saying this was intolerable behavior, and it has earned each of you a week's detention."

"Hem, hem."

"Would you care for a cough drop?" Professor McGonagall looks back up to Professor Umbridge, visibly annoyed.

"Thank you, no. I do, however think your punishment is unequal to the offenses at hand."

"Do you now?"

"Yes, I do, and I am afraid I must overrule your judgment in this matter. A savage beating such as this demands far more than mere detention. I think the behavior shown reflects the true character of the individuals involved, and people with character such as this have no place on a civilized place such as a Quidditch pitch. So I am banning both from playing again."

"What? Banning us? For how long?" I yell out.

"Why for life." For life? I'll never play Quidditch again? One of my favorite things about the wizarding world is over, just like that? "Oh yes, I believe there was another individual involved, the other Weasley twin was it? I think it only just that the same punishment extend to him as well."

"Why? He didn't do anything." George tries to defend his brother.

"But he wanted to; he would have if not for the efforts of the rest of the team. Why, it took three people to restrain him; his intent was clear. We cannot base our society on heroic efforts of individuals who happen to stop depraved sorts intent on committing acts of violence. No, he wanted to join in on the offense at hand, so he will join in on the punishment as well: Lifetime bans from Quidditch for all three of you, and of course Professor McGonagall's punishment of one week's detention each will stand as well." Professor Umbridge turns and starts walking out, stopping in the doorway. "Oh, and do have a nice day."

**Author's Notes:**

Sorry this is a bit late. Some computer issues have me running behind (mother board upgrade that took hours longer than planned thanks to Windows throwing a fit, if you're curious.)

Thanks to that-fan for his help with this. The Veritaserum section changed a lot thanks to him.

I'd also like to thank the people who are reviewing, I really appreciate it. Of course, more is always better, so please, feel free to leave a review. They're great to get.


	7. Shaping Our Futures

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter and am making no money from this.

**Cho**

We're waiting outside of Professor McGonagall's office, myself, Granger, all the Weasleys who aren't in for punishment and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. I saw Professor Umbridge go inside, which I do not think is a good sign; I can't think of a single reason for her to be there that would be good for Harry.

No one is really saying much. After all, people never really do when waiting for bad news. Think about it. Hospital waiting rooms, funeral homes, have you ever seen lively conversation at those? I suppose if a funeral had an open bar it might happen, but still, it isn't a common thing. Hmm, getting off topic. Oh well, it happens; you can't have a good mind without it wandering at times.

Harry and one of the Weasley twins (I'm not sure which. Really, they're pretty much interchangeable) come out of the office looking truly despondent. Obviously I didn't expect to see gleeful looks, they were there to be punished, but this is beyond that.

"That bad?" Ron Weasley asks.

"It's worse." the punished twin answers.

"We're banned." Harry adds.

"Banned? Banned from what?" Obvious questions seem to be Ron's favorite sort.

"Quidditch."

"They're making you two sit out the next game?"

"It's a lifetime ban, Ron. And it applied to Fred as well."

"Me? What did I do?" the twin who was waiting out here with us yells out.

"Umbridge said you wanted to attack Malfoy too and didn't care that the rest of the team stopped you." Harry explains.

"But that's crap! I didn't actually do anything."

"She didn't care, she just punished us all."

"So she just gutted the entire Gryffindor team." Ron's assessment seems dead on to me.

"Seems like it." Harry shrugs and starts walking off towards Gryffindor tower.

I can't imagine what being banned from flying would be like. It's one of the few real, true pleasures in my life; a thing I do not because I have to, because I'm expected to or because of anyone else. It's something I do just for me, and I know Harry is the same. Maybe it's like the look on his face now: like all the color in everything is gone. Just plain gone.

I walk to Harry. I'd like to comfort him. I don't know how, what to say or do, but I have to do something. He looks so broken I have to try and do something. I get fairly close to him before he takes notice of me. "Oh, Cho. Hi."

"Harry, I'm so sorry." It sounds like something you'd say at a funeral, but it seems appropriate none the less.

"Here, you may as well take this." Harry holds out his broom towards me.

"I... I can't. That's too much, Harry. I'd love to take it, but that thing costs a fortune. I just can't accept it. I'm sorry." Merlin I want to take that broom, but I just can't do it.

"It's fine, Cho. Just return it at the end of the year. It's not like I can use it anymore, so you may as well."

"Well if you're sure." A life time of good manners drilled into my head has hit its limit. It's not a gift, it's just a loan, and that's good enough for me. I take the broom that could open up a whole new career for me.

"Bloody hell, mate. Are you sure?" Ron Weasley really needs to shut up.

"It's fine, Ron. It's not like I can use it, right? No flying except for Quidditch, and no Quidditch for me."

"But what about our team?"

"Half our team is gone, Ron. The team's done."

"If you're really sure..."

Fortunately he really is. Poor Harry's seeker career may be over, and I truly do feel bad for him, but my career is looking up indeed.

**Pansy**

Between the extra work Professors Snape and McGonagall have her doing, that little bitch Tracey Sheffield hasn't had any time for more of her scheming. Of course just because she can't try and screw with me any more doesn't mean she's off the hook for what she did. Seriously, if you let that kind of thing go unpunished people will start to get ideas. There's only one queen bitch in this house and dear, sweet Tracey needs to be reminded who that is.

It's breakfast time in the Great Hall. Everyone's here and eating already, just like normal, and just like normal, the morning papers should be delivered soon. What's different from normal is that I know what will be in the paper.

Planting news stories is an old trick people in power have used for years. I've seen my parents do it and it's worked for them, so I decided to use the same tactic. A lot of the time with them it's a made up story, I have the benefit of being able to use the truth as my weapon this time though.

Right on cue the owls come, dropping off the papers for all to read. I open up my copy, and just like I planned, there's the top story.

_UNFORGIVABLES AT HOGWARTS_

_The Daily Prophet has reported extensively about the problems at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but it now appears the problems are far more dire than anyone imagined._

_An anonymous trusted source has revealed that a student is known to have used the Imperius curse, one of the Unforgivables on another student. As you might recall, the highly dubious decision to show the students of Hogwarts the Unforgivables in their Defense Against the Dark Arts class was undertaken last year, with the approval of headmaster Albus Dumbledore. Apparently at least one student was paying close attention._

_Early this school year, one student, revealed to this reporter to be Tracey Sheffield used the Imperius on another student (whose name is being withheld to protect their privacy). This vile attack was reported, and in fact the matter was brought to the personal attention of Albus Dumbledore._

_Sadly, as of this printing no disciplinary action has been taken, to say nothing of the opening of a criminal investigation one would expect from the use of such a vile curse. The reason for this is unknown, but would seem to raise serious questions about the ability of Albus Dumbledore to manage the once prestigious school. When combined with the already public issues Albus Dumbledore is known to have had this year, one can't help but wonder how he can still be trusted with our children and the shaping of their futures._

Outstanding. _The Prophet_ did its usual wonderful job writing a hit piece. The paper has been after Potter, Dumbledore and everything at Hogwarts for months; it didn't take any effort at all to get them to write one more article with everything I spoon fed them.

I'd love to take credit for the hit job, but I don't really see how I could. Still, credit or not, Tracey's name appeared there, front and center. A nice big accusation of something that should land her in prison. Not that she'll ever see the inside of a cell, not for this at least, but calling her out makes her look like an idiot, which was my goal. After all, who's going to follow an idiot? No one, obviously. Well, other idiots might, but Crabbe and Goyle already have someone to follow, so Tracey's out of luck.

I left Granger's name out of the information I gave _The Prophet_. I went back and forth on that one, but in the end I decided to give her cover. I don't think it really hurts the credibility of the article (not that they much care about that sort of thing). I still want to see if Granger really will use that intelligence and anger to do something amusing, and if I named her that might ruin my future entertainment.

Speaking of entertainment, I look down the table to see how Tracey's enjoying her morning paper. Based on the look on her face I'd say she isn't enjoying it at all. The dumb bitch looks shocked, like she can't figure out how her plan could have gone so wrong. Or maybe she's wondering how word of it got all the way to the paper. _The Prophet_ wrote so much crap about Granger last year there's no way they would have believed her if she told them about the attack, so poor Tracey girl has no suspects on her list.

I do hope she doesn't hurt herself thinking about it too hard. But between all the work Professors Snape and McGonagall have given her, plus trying to live down a failed criminal career I doubt she'll have too much time to think about who did it.

**Cho**

It's been a long week leading up to the Hogsmeade weekend. It seemed like every class had at least a few people out sick, so when they would return teacher were forced to cover material more than once. It's early in the year, so honestly none of it was terribly interesting the first time around, to say nothing of twice.

If it was just Gryffindors I could understand it; a sort of 'sick out' in protest of the banning of half their Quidditch team, but the illness seems to know no house bounds. I suppose that means it's legitimate, if no less annoying as a result.

The upside of the weed would have to be Quidditch practice. (Obviously. With a Firebolt who wouldn't see that as the best part of their week?) The broom is an absolute joy to fly, and as amazing as the things I was able to do with it when I first flew it, practice has made me even better.

It practically has no limits, its top speed is unmatched and it's so maneuverable it practically responds to mere thought. It lets me play in ways I never could before. It also lets me do things my teammates absolutely hate: it lets me fly through their formations at nearly top speed, completely disrupting them. Sometimes I let them see me coming and play chicken, others I come at them from their blind spot, seeing how close I can come without actually hitting anyone. I can't quite get close enough to touch them at top speed, but I'm getting close.

They yell at me every time, but it's just too fun for me to care. I've done it so much they're starting to treat it like part of practice, simulated enemy tactics or some such. At first they were worried I was suicidal; so distraught over Cedric that I wanted to kill myself. Thankfully once they saw the look on my face they realized that wasn't the case. I've gotten so much sympathy over Cedric (real and appreciated at first, but annoyingly overbearing before long) that more of that is the absolute last thing I need.

For my date with Harry I'm wearing a dress, nothing so racy he gets the wrong idea, but showing enough that I'm hoping he regrets cutting a date with me in half again. Show him what he's missing out on and such. I know it's petty, but I don't really care. There's some things you just plain are not supposed to do to someone you're dating.

When I see Harry in the Entrance Hall I know my outfit is working. He hasn't seen me in much besides school robes and he can't help but blush and stare a bit when he sees me now.

"Oh wow, you look amazing Cho. I mean, um, hi."

"Hi, Harry. And thank you."

"So um, where do you want to go today? Any ideas?"

"I was thinking we could go to Madam Puddifoot's."

"I don't think I've heard of that place."

"It's a little tea and coffee shop. You'll like it."

"All right, then."

We walk to the village, side by side. The whole way I can see Harry fidgeting with his hand closest to me. I think he's nervous, like he wants to hold my hand but either isn't sure if he should or doesn't have the guts to actually do it. It's cute, in a way. I've had boys act awkward around me before, but Harry's the worst I've ever seen for it.

"You know if you want to hold my hand it's ok."

"What, it is? Wait, how did you know?"

"I can see you fidgeting, Harry."

"Oh, sorry."

"Harry, it's ok. Just relax."

"Sorry, Cho."

"It's fine, harry, really. You don't need to be so nervous or apologize for every little thing. You've been on dates before, after all, haven't you?"

"Actually, no."

"Never? You mean you've never dated anyone before me?"

"Yeah." Harry looks so vulnerable admitting that.

"Oh. Well it's ok, Harry, nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone has their first boyfriend or girlfriend. Just try to relax and be yourself. We're here to have fun and spend time together, after all. And if you're not sure about something, just ask. It's fine, really."

My little pep talk seems to have the desired effect, thankfully. Harry's cute with how unsure he is, but I know it would get old if it was the limit of his emotional range. Fortunately he does start to relax; he even decides to hold my hand.

Madam Puddifoot's is a cozy little place, which truth be told is a bit stuffy and cramped for my taste, but in a village the size of Hogsmeade there aren't a lot of options, so it's what passes for the place to go on a date.

Harry looks pretty uncomfortable in this place. I figured he might be, but since he's taking half of what should be our date for that meeting, I figured this half was mine and he'd just have to deal with it, but I feel sort of bad about it now.

If I really am his first girlfriend then it may be that he just plain didn't know interrupting a date was so bad. It seems like common sense to me, but when it comes to dating Harry seems to be pretty helpless. What I don't understand is how that could be. He asked me out to the Yule Ball last year and even though I couldn't go with him, he found a date anyway. So how can be so totally clueless?

"Harry, if you don't mind my saying so you seem rather, well, not particularly knowledgeable about dating and girls and that sort of thing. But how can that be? You had a date to the Yule Ball last year. How is it you say I'm your first girlfriend then?"

"I didn't really have a date. I was required to go with someone, so I asked Parvati, but all we did was walk in together, really."

"That doesn't sound like a very fun evening for her."

"Um, I suppose not. But I don't really know how to dance, so I don't think it would have been very good for her regardless. Besides, I wanted to go with you."

"Harry, I've told you, Cedric had already asked me." I hope he isn't fishing for an apology here. If he'd have asked me sooner he'd have gotten a different answer. It's not my fault he took so long.

"I know, I'm just saying." And people have said I can be passive-aggressive.

"But haven't you ever done anything with a girl before? If not at school, then during the summer when you're at home?"

"My home life isn't really what you'd call good."

"What exactly does that mean?"

"You really want to know this sort of thing? It's not really nice."

"Of course I want to know, Harry. This is the sort of thing you discuss with your girlfriend. Not everything about either of our lives is going to be nice or happy or easy to talk about, but it's a part of who we are, and that's what dating is about: getting to know the other person. Not just the nice surface parts, but everything."

"Oh, I see. My home life, well, it's a bit of a long story to really understand it all."

Harry tells me all about his life outside of school, the Muggles he lives with the closet under the stairs they made him stay in, all the horrible things they do to him, how they talk to him, the 'gifts' for his birthdays and Christmases, and their attitudes towards magic in general. It sounds quite horrible, but I can't help but wonder if some is exaggerated. I have no doubt Harry is treated poorly, extremely so, and that these Muggles are probably bad people, but some of the details beggar belief.

"You make it sound as if your entire life is an unbroken line of misery, Harry."

"A lot of it is. Really all of it used to be. You see, they didn't even tell me magic existed, I only found out when I got my Hogwarts letter. That's when things got better. I like it here at school, and during the summer sometimes they let me spend the last few weeks with the Weasleys, I like it there too."

"They let you spend time? Who is they?"

"Professor Dumbledore."

"Professor Dumbledore? What, is he your guardian or something?"

"No, he isn't It just seems like everyone sort of does what he says, the Weasleys included. So until he says I can go there, I have to stay with my Muggle relatives."

The situation sounds truly bizarre. If the abuse he receives is even close to what he's told me then there's government services that could and should remove him from the home, yet they've failed to do so. Professor Dumbledore's involvement seems odd, as well. He's a massively respected wizard, granted, but still, he should have no place in matters of the custody of a minor.

"That all sounds very odd, Harry."

"It does?"

"Yes. If you're in abusive home then you should say something about it. There's people who can help; people who can do something about it. You've got to speak up."

"I have. I've told Professor Dumbledore about it, but he says I have to stay there."

"Why? And why is it up to him? He may be the headmaster of the school, but this is outside his jurisdiction."

"He's always just sort of been the one who seemed in charge…."

This doesn't make any sense, but I don't think pushing further will help. I get the strong impression that there's more to this than Harry knows. I might have to do some research of my own, look into child custody law and see if the records of who Harry's legal guardian are public domain or not. But that's a project for another day.

"So anyway, no I don't have experience with girls. You're the only one I've ever been interested in, Cho."

Wow, I can't help but blush. Inexperienced or not, Harry does saw sweet things sometimes. He might be a bit of a fixer-uper as boyfriends go, but I think he's worth it.

The rest of our date is pretty much small talk. How classes are going, the weather, those sorts of banalities. I think it's for the best, since discussion of Harry's home life was decidedly on the heavy side, and not especially pleasant for him.

Finally it's time for Granger's meeting. She picked the Hog's Head apparently, a bar on the outskirts of town. It's run down, not at all the sort of a place I'd want to go if it were up to me. I think the nicest word I can come up with to describe it would be 'sketchy'.

Inside is even worse, neglect and grime that takes either decades of disrepair or some level of magic induced entropy far beyond what they teach us at school. Either way, I feel like I need a bath just from being in the room. I wonder if whoever runs this place would be offended if I used magic to make my own chair. Actually, even if they will be, I think I'll be doing it.

It seems we're a bit early; Hermione Granger is the only student here. Everyone else in the bar I presume is a regular. Certainly all the inhabitants seems to be covered in a layer of filth comparable to the bar itself.

We walk over to the table Granger is at. "Harry, Cho, hi." she greets us.

"Hi Hermione. I guess we're early." Harry greets his friend.

"Granger." I'm not going to bother pretending to be glad to be here. I'm here, I let my boyfriend come, if that's not enough for her then that's just too bad. Harry may not know better, but I don't see Granger as having much of an excuse.

Fortunately people start trickling in quickly, so there's no awkward conversation to keep an even more awkward silence at bay. It looks like Granger recruited heavily from Gryffindor, with every Weasley in attendance, the rest of their Quidditch team and quite a few others, mainly fifth year but a handful that are younger. I also recognize a few Hufflepuffs, and of course, just like I was asked, I got a few Ravenclaws here too.

Of course, they might not be exactly who Granger would have chosen. First is Marietta, my best friend. She isn't a fan of Harry. Actually, if there was an Anti Harry club she'd be a founding member. It actually took a lot to talk her into coming. I had to resort to asking her to come and bail me out if this somehow went bad. I think she has ideas of Harry using mass hypnosis or something silly like that here, and she can save me from him. Well, no one said I had to bring Ravenclaws who would be supportive.

I made sure to invite another girl from Ravenclaw: Luna Lovegood. Ravenclaws are traditionally known for raw intellect, but there is another, somewhat lesser known virtue we embody: creativity. Luna's certainly bright enough, but that alone probably wouldn't have gotten her into my house. When it comes to creativity, however, Luna's way past anyone else I've ever met. I think eccentric is the nicest way to put it. A lively fantasy life, perhaps. Whatever you'd call it, Luna has an elaborate belief system concerning various mythical creatures. Most people call it made up or worse, but whatever terminology you'd care to use, she is a Ravenclaw, and I got her here.

Now you could call it passive aggressive, and all right, I'll concede that it likely is, yes. I picked two girls who are probably the least suitable candidates for what's wanted here. And I could go on about interrupting my date, but rather suspect I've belabored that point already. The point is if Hermione Granger, or anyone else for that matter, wants anything more than my most grudging level of cooperation she should try working with me better in the future.

"All right, I think everyone is here." Granger stands up and starts this little meeting. "We're all here because the Defense Against the Dark Arts class is woefully inadequate. We need real instruction, not what that Umbridge woman is doing, that's just telling us to read the book. We need someone who can cast these spells to show us how, and then we need practice actually doing it ourselves. Since no one else is going to do it, we need to take it into our own hands. Well, mostly Harry's hands."

"So you want to make sure you pass your Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL." some Hufflepuff whose name I can't quite remember asks.

"Well yes, that's certainly part of it." I've heard Granger is obsessed with grades, and I simply cannot understand why. School is hardly so demanding that it takes a great effort to get good grades. Even top marks are quite achievable with a bit of effort. So why the obsession? "But it's more than that. We need to be ready, because Voldermort is back."

Most everyone in the crowd gasps or has similar shocked reactions at the name. I'd be lying if I said hearing it didn't make me uncomfortable too. Growing up that was the word more than any other that no one was allowed to say, not even grownups. Even profanities were more easily forgiven easier than that name.

"What's your proof that he's back?" the same Hufflepuff demands.

"Well, Dumbledore believes it."

"You mean Dumbledore believes him."

"Who the hell are you anyway?" Ron Weasley demands.

"Zacharias Smith."

"All right. And just where do you get off talking like that?"

"If we're going to go along with this, I think we have a right to know just why you're all so sure You-Know-Who is back." A lot of the crowd starts muttering agreement with Zacharias.

"That's not exactly why we're here." Granger should know she won't get control of this meeting back like that. The only version of the story out there is Professor Dumbledore's, after all. I went through a lot of trouble to get the first hand version out of Harry; obviously a lot of this crowd thought this would be an effort free means to that same end. I'm not sure how Granger failed to foresee this possibility.

"It's all right, Hermione." Harry gets up, saving his friend. "What makes me think Voldermort is back is the fact I saw him. Dumbledore told you this whole story at the end of last year."

"All he told us was that You-Know-Who murdered Cedric Diggory and you brought his body back." Harry's not doing any better with this Zacharias character than Ron Weasley did.

"If you came here for every gory detail then you're going to be disappointed. I'm not here to tell you what happened last year or to justify myself or any of that, so if that's why you're here you may as well leave right now." Despite Harry's statement, no one leaves.

"So, like I was saying, we want to learn some proper defense. Now I think we should work out some details, where we'll meet, how often and so on." Granger tries getting control of her meeting back.

"Can you really conjure a corporeal Patronus?" A Hufflepuff girl asks. And that would seem to be the limit of Granger's authority here.

"Um, yes, I can." Harry confirms.

"That's not all he can do. What he did in the Triwizard Tournament last year, some of that was amazing." I start listing off my boyfriend's accomplishments from the previous year. I didn't see them all first hand, but Cedric spared no detail in telling me all about the goings on of the tournament.

I elucidate as much as I can, doing my part to make Harry sound as impressive as possible. It seems to be working, because I have the entire crowd hanging on my every word. It's not normal for me to just step forward and take control of a situation like this, especially not one that others created, but it really is a bit of a thrill, all the attention.

By the time I run out of things to say I've gotten a very good idea why Marietta wants to be the center of attention. It really is fun having every eye on you, everyone waiting to see what you'll say next, the entire room looking up to you. "So, I think it's rather obvious, Harry has a great deal he could teach all of us, and I for one think it's a wonderful idea. In fact I can't begin to fathom why we've gotten such a useless instructor as Professor Umbridge."

"Actually, I have a guess for that." I look at Granger. "I think it's because the Minister is worried about Dumbledore organizing the students into an army. He thinks we could move against him."

That truly is one of the most absurd things I've heard. An army of students? Just what does he think we can do? And are the Ministry's Aurors so inept that they can't deliver victory in a battle against children? The entire idea is ridiculous. What bothers me, though, is that I can't immediately come up with a more plausible explanation. Even if someone somehow thought that woman was a suitable educator, the Educational Decrees can't be so easily explained away.

"Regardless of why she's here, the fact is she is. Now since everyone is still here I'm guessing you're all interested. So shall we discuss scheduling and location?"

Instantly there's objections about conflicts with Quidditch practice (one of them my own.) Granger doesn't look thrilled that her club is going to have to schedule around Quidditch, but there's some things you just can't give ground on. She's supposed to be friends with Harry and that Weasley that plays Keeper for Gryffindor, how does she not know this?

"All right, all right, I get it. Quidditch practice is important, and I'm sure there's other clubs and activities to schedule around. So how about this? Everyone write down your name on a roster and we'll work out a timetable that fits around everything and tell you all when we can meet later?"

"What about a place to meet?" Ron Weasley asks.

This of course sets off another long chain of ideas, all of which are shot down. Library, various favorite class rooms, the Great Hall, none of them cut it. Frankly, the lack of having prepared answers for the questions of when and where we'll meet doesn't impress me at all. If it was my meeting I'd have prepackaged answers for everything, what we'd do, where, when, why, all of it. You sound a lot more professional that way, and you're a lot more likely to get people to go along with you that way. But it's Granger's show, so I keep my mouth shut.

In the end the issue of venue is treated the same as timing: to be determined later. By the time Granger is getting out her roster for everyone to sign Harry is already getting up and escorting me out. Well, he isn't a details sort of guy, so I imagine he's been rather bored with the end of the meeting, which admittedly, did rather start to drag on. Besides, I'm sure Granger knows Harry and I will both be there, whether we sign her paper or not.

**Author's Notes:**

Almost didn't it make with this chapter. The Pansy section was totally rewritten from scratch. The first version was a totally different set of events which got a super negative reaction in early reads, so it had to all be tossed and a new revenge plot invented.

Like always, thanks to that-fan, who helped with the aforementioned total section rewrite and reimagining.

Thanks to everyone who's reviewd, I really appreciate it. Any new readers, or existing ones reading this chapter, please do leave a review. They're always great to get, authors love them. Thanks.


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